Lover is a Cheap Title
by FreundlichFizzo
Summary: FINAL CHAPTER COMPLETE! Two years on and everything is breaking apart again: Writer’s block, Taki’s younger sister, an attempted rape, identity crisis, an unforgettable past, and a French prostitute with her mysterious blonde son. New Epilogue.
1. 3:41 am

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation.

Dedication: To Laura (AKA WinBulter) who introduced me to Gravitation and FanFiction and without whom this story would never have come into being. ALL HAIL THE HYPNOTOAD (and fizzy fish too)!

Warnings: Language - English. Oh, _that_ kind of language; no we shan't be having any of that here thank you.

Violence - Moderate

Sex/nudity – None (Expect some in the future and it will be boy on boy but if you weren't expecting that you wouldn't be reading a Gravitation FanFiction would you?)

Drugs (and rock'n'roll) - None, smoking is not cool kids.

And now that that's all done with…

**_Chapter 1 - 3:41 am_**

I'll begin with a short authorial intrusion to let you know that we are now two years into the future since where the television series left off. Eiri is struggling increasingly with his writing because it was always his tragic past that fuelled his creativity but now he has, as far as possible, come to terms with this he is beginning to fade into the background of the writing industry failing to fight competition from younger, gifted novelists.

Eiri scrolled down the document on his computer skimming through and picking out mistakes. It was his autobiography, a final attempt to leave a good impression on the public after their disappointment and criticism of his last novel before putting his pen to rest.

"Tohma was a friend of Kitazawa in school and told me endless stories of how he was extremely talented and achieved high marks in every exam, he was athletic and good looking and had a sense of humour that was incomparable to anyone else's. In his final year he was head boy and captain of the football and hockey teams. Privileges and admiration from everyone at the school inflated his already impressive sense of self and he strutted majestically along corridors parading his prefect gown and badge. During his time at university in America he lost most of his immature arrogance and had become a sophisticated young man with incredible potential.

"When I was 16 I was still bullied in school but I was able to confide in my close friend and future brother-in-law, Tohma Seguchi, and to this day we have always kept each other's best interests at heart. Together we travelled to New York to meet Kitazawa and I saw for myself everything Tohma had described. He _was_ kind, and he _was_ good-looking, and charismatic, and talented. But I feel in hindsight that I admired his talent too much and he took advantage of my affection."

He reflected for a moment on what he had written; he was about the same age now as Kitazawa was when he died; he felt guilty to think of what he would have done without him, Kitazawa had inspired him and mentored him but he would not have achieved the fame he had if he had been competing against him. He was fortunate to even be alive after the events in New York but these thoughts were quickly overtaken by humiliation. How could he have been so foolish? Why had he trusted him? Why had he cared for him; loved him even and held a hope for his recovery, judgment clouded by his falsely foundered admiration for his tutor?

A few paragraphs further on he searched for a passage describing one of the most terrifying times when he had been living with Kitazawa.

"At the worst times he would come home well into the early hours of Saturday morning. The pub shut several hours before but he roamed the streets until his associates passed out and he would arrive at the house to point an intoxicated finger at me. I made futile attempts to sleep but my mind was agitated by thoughts of what he could be doing, or going to do. Emotions of anger, fear and hatred turned over and swelled inside my brain, pressure built up, pressing my head into the pillow which smothered me in its delicate goose down. To go to sleep would mean leaving my scrawny teenage body completely vulnerable to his attacks.

"Instead, I curled up on the sofa with my legs pulled up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. I fought sleep with a cocktail of caffeine and additives, colourings and stabilisers from the American junk food my diet now consisted of. My brain absorbed an unbroken steam of television programmes and advertisements as my eyes rested unfocused on the screen. I didn't laugh at comedies; I didn't cry at tragedies; I didn't cringe at horror films but it blocked out my thoughts and feelings and left me with only the primitive instinct of survival.

"Stumbling footsteps on the stairs to the apartment followed by the thudding of a fist on the wooden front door and the rattling of metal lock with metal key shook me back to reality. I glanced at the illuminated digital display on the video recorder, 3:41am, and then stood up to cautiously open the door. Without warning, a bottle was hurled through the glass window at the far end of the room. Fragments of glass shattered across the dinning table and the flower arrangement toppled scattering the elegant carnations and spilling a cascade of water onto the carpet. My throat was too dry to scream. I hid between the sofa and the wall, armed with a heavy reference book, listening to my shallow breathing and the rapid thumping against the insides of my ribcage. I was helpless prey cornered by my predator.

"Another window smashed, this time above me and splinters of glass scratched the back of my neck and head. Cool rain was blown through the opening and sprinkled over me. Tears of terror trickled down my cheeks. I was going to die. I crawled out to the edge of the sofa and saw three men, Yuki and two strangers, respectable men reduced to savage animals by alcohol.

"He saw me. His eyes glinted, his tongue licked along his lips, his tail twitched, he pounced. I sprinted towards the door but his hands clawed at my shirt pulling me down and he roared with rage. I slipped on the spilled water from the vase and my chin hit the table and nothing.

"Some nights he didn't come home at all."

Eiri closed his eyes, removed his reading glasses and ran his fingers through his long hair. Course stubble was beginning to sprout on his chin which was propped up in the palm of one hand while the other reached across the desk for his mug of coffee. Black and icy cold it sent a bitter spasm down the muscles of he back.

He blinked and looked up at the ceiling as though gravity could pull the tears back into his eyes. It's in the past; he's in the past he thought furiously. He heaved a frustrated sigh and glanced at the framed photograph on his desk. A candid shot of a young couple, one pink-haired one a dirty-blonde, arms round each others waists and gazing adoringly at each other. Love: the deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection towards another person. That was why he had believed in Kitazawa and stood by him.

The scratching of a key in the front door lock alerted him to how late it was; Shuichi was home. He glanced at his watch, 3.41am, the coincidence was chilling and he stayed put while Shuichi cautiously opened the door.


	2. Fading Direction

Disclaimer 

I don't own Gravitation.

**_Chapter 2 – Fading Direction_**

Eiri listened as Shuichi's footsteps paced though the kitchen, living room, dining room and he opened and closed the bedroom door before disturbing the silence of his darkened study.

"I should have known you'd still be working; are you planning on sleeping at all tonight?" Shuichi asked, an unmistakable trace of resentment edging each word.

"No"

"Can't you leave it until the morning? No one could write a decent novel at quarter to four, not Shakespeare, not Dickens, not Eiri Yuki"

Eiri turned around to give Shuichi a contemptuous stare before fixing his eyes back onto the computer screen. He longed to sleep but he had deadlines to meet, chapters to proof read, a title to think of and a meeting with the publishing company the next day. Why was this so much harder than it had ever been in the past? He had pulled all-nighters before and managed to suavely smooth things over with his editor in the morning but now his creative spirit felt exhausted as he teased out vaguely coherent sentences; this biography was harder than anything he had had to write before.

Shuichi stood behind Eiri's chair and slid his arms over his shoulders, wrapping them around his neck in an unreciprocated embrace. Eiri could smell alcohol on his breath; he had been drinking after tonight's performance, perhaps even during and before.

"He was extremely talented and achieved high marks in every exam, he was athletic and good looking and had a sense of humour that was incomparable to anyone else's" Shuichi read aloud. "Awww Eiri," he said dreamily "you don't complement me often but that really means a lot to me."

Shuichi smiled sweetly and nuzzled his nose into Eiri's hair as his head rested beside his neck. Eiri sighed loudly again.

"It's not about you, dimwit"

Shuichi looked a little disappointed, loosening his hold slightly, so to emphasise the point further Eiri opened another document on the computer screen for him to read.

Shuichi skimmed through and his eyes widened as he picked out his harshest words; "Pink-haired brat", "another arrogant teenager full of hot air and zero talent to fulfil his ambitions" Shuichi scoffed at this and read on. "He was too loud, he cried too easily, and he sucked in bed".

Shuichi removed his arms completely from Eiri's neck and watched his smirk reflected in the monitor.

"You can't say that! What about my fans? My public image? The album sales will plummet if they find out I-"

"-have an ickle winky?" interrupted Eiri.

"NO!" he shouted back indignantly.

He reached over Eiri's shoulder for the computer mouse to edit the manuscript but a sharp smack over his knuckles made him recoil leaving him with one last, self-destructive, option. He ducked under Eiri's arms which were stretched out over the keyboard and poised one finger threateningly above the off switch.

It must be established at this point that -despite what Eiri says- Shuichi was most definitely only teasing and it was never his intention to delete the novel.

"Get off" said Eiri coolly, but his heartless glare was acknowledged only by a mischievous grin. He aimed a swift kick at Shuichi's arm; he flinched; the screen went blank as Eiri's foot hit the CPU plunging several hours' worth of unsaved work into the irretrievable depths of cyberspace.

Shuichi gritted his teeth and breathed out apprehensively as he considered his possible reactions in the silence that followed. Anger? Depression? Panic? He could make out Eiri's ominous silhouette highlighted by moonlight from the window.

"You jerk!"

Shuichi scrambled upright and gabbled back.

"I s-suppose this isn't a good opportunity to tell you, th-that I didn't actually do anything wrong, you kicked your own computer…No? I g-guess not. OK."

A wild chase followed: Shuichi ran out of the study and through the kitchen; he clambered beneath the dining room table and skilfully vaulted the sofa into the bedroom. Eiri chose a dirty plate as his first weapon but then changed his mind, it was too expensive to waste on Shuichi's head, and instead he picked up a cushion from the sofa which was narrowly deflected as Shuichi closed the door to the bedroom.

"Come out you coward" called Eiri as he opened the door. With nowhere left to run he victoriously pinned Shuichi to the wall of the shadowy room with one hand resting either side of his head.

"Ah well" said Shuichi innocently "there's no point going back to work now, your computer is off and we are in the bedroom," He paused for a moment, looking into the depths of his lover's eyes before continuing "and as my confidence has already taken a battering tonight, I feel you-"

He reached up on tip-toes to kiss Eiri tenderly on the lips.

"-owe me the opportunity-"

He kissed him again.

"-to disprove your notion-"

He kissed him again.

"-that I-"

And again.

"-suck-"

And again.

"-in bed."

Eiri lay awake as plots, metaphors, syntax and other miscellaneous literary devices drifted through his drowsy mind. He couldn't sleep; the meeting with the publishers was only hours away. He filled a glass of water and took his half empty packet of cigarettes from the coffee table before sliding open the door to the balcony and slipping out into the December dawn. The sunrise glistened on the snow that decorated the windowsills and doorways of the urban landscape and the fingers of a frosty breeze ruffled his hair disrupting the smoky spirals rising from between his fingers.

He wasn't cut out for this anymore and there was no use in pretending to himself that he was. It seemed ridiculous to say that at twenty-four he wanted to retire but he couldn't hide the fact that now he wasn't able to write more than a paragraph without finding distractions or excuses. There were other pressures too; the media attention he had for his writing was tiring especially after the negative reviews he'd received last time and there were other more talented authors who were competing for his place in the bestsellers rankings.

What else could he do? He had left school at sixteen without any qualifications. Vague visualisations teased him; working behind the check-out of the local supermarket; selling second hand cars to passing punters; teaching – that wasn't too farfetched. It would certainly be a change from being a reclusive novelist. He would need a new name, or at least go back being Eiri Uesugi.

He stubbed his cigarette out on the balcony railings and flicked the butt out into the street. It fell four storeys, caught in an icy draught, and landed in the tainted snow stained by the black tracks left by passing cars. He turned to go inside leaving Yuki out in the cold.


	3. Revelations and Resolutions

Disclaimer 

I don't own Gravitation.

_**Chapter 3 – Revelations and Resolutions**_

Sorry to bother you again but we are moving forward in time once more; one of the benefits of being an omniscient narrator. Nine months on, it is autumn and the beginning of the new academic year. Flame red Acer leaves carpet the streets of Tokyo and the clear September sunlight is streaming down the crevices of the multi-storey city flowing into the windows of the café where Hiro and Shuichi are deep in conversation.

"Where's Ayaka this morning?" Shuichi enquired.

"My mum's taken her to Hokkaido to see my Grandma and sort out the dress alterations. I told her travelling there and back is probably going to cost more than the dress itself but she doesn't trust anyone else to do it." He sipped his coffee and grinned over the rim at Shuichi as he laughed. "At least I get some free time to work on my song in secret".

"Ooh, how's that coming on?"

Hiro winced at the thought of performing in front of his family and friends, not to mention his wife, at the reception in less than a month. "The chords are all there but the lyrics-" he gave a soft, indistinct groan and turned to look out of the window. "I never really appreciated what you do but you certainly pulled the short straw when you chose to be the vocalist."

Shuichi smiled amusedly, "Have you got them with you? Can I have a look?"

Hiro hesitantly pulled a scuffed spiral-bound reporters notebook from his rucksack and flicked through pages of hastily scribbled notes and lazy doodles to the back. "It's pathetic twaddle, I know" he said defensively folding back the cover and handing over the pad. Shuichi read through the first few lines of the lyrics and a wide grin spread across his face.

"You write like you're at a third-grade reading level. Is this drivel really your idea of a love song?" teased Shuichi, giggling childishly as he quoted Eiri's words from their first meeting. Hiro stretched across the table to snatch the notebook back but Shuichi swiftly hid it under the table. "I haven't finished it yet." And then changing the topic to give himself time read it, "I still can't believe Nittle Grasper agreed to perform at your wedding! They're the second best band in Japan."

"I know! it's a shame we can't have the first but it would be kind of hard as I will be busy getting married and all that." They laughed together and then Shuichi returned to reading Hiro's lyrics while Hiro took Shuichi's chocolate biscuit as he was distracted.

Shuichi looked up after a few seconds and raised his eyebrows; "You've got zero talent. Give it up". Hiro's despairing expression convinced him to relent a little as he said "You need to concentrate less on the rhymes and rhythm, just write from your heart."

"So, "_Just a threadbare doll / Destroying the forever unchanging night"_ is from the heart is it?"

"Yes, of course it is! But "_When I miss my teddy bear in bed / You'll be there to sleep with me instead_" certainly isn't. Irritated, Hiro again reached out to grab the book but their immature squabbling was interrupted by the appearance of a third hand. Shuichi gulped and then, turning to Hiro, hissed in an audible whisper "Hiro! We're of it now, Professor Uesugi's seen us!"

"Now now boys" said Eiri, deciding to continue their schoolroom role-play "Break it up please, and hand that over" indicating the lyrics in Shuichi's hand. He read through them and clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "I've told you call it quits while you still have some dignity to salvage. You've gone past zero talent Shuichi. It's in the negative digits now."

"it's not mine sir, It's Hiro's"

Hiro's eyes widened and he cried back "You're such a tell-tale Shuichi Shindo!". He pushed his chair back to stand up, fist clenched when the sound of Tohma's nervous laughter disturbed the illusion.

"I think this has got a little out of hand. As much as I am your rival I am also the president of N-G and it is my professional opinion that a punch-up between members of Bad Luck in a public place would not be good for publicity" and then he added "In other circumstances I would have no trouble with you beating Shuichi senseless, Hiro."

"Oh you wouldn't, would you?" challenged Eiri intimidatingly, the few centimetres of height difference between them seeming like metres. Tohma smiled cordially, rejecting his attempts to get him to lighten up a bit, and then pulled two chairs towards Shuichi and Hiro's table so they could sit down.

"You'd better get used to this sort of childish behaviour Eiri, you'll have it everyday from tomorrow" said Tohma.

"I'm sure Shuichi has given me more than enough experience of dealing with disobedient teenagers." He winked at him across the table and the muscles contracted slightly at the corner of his mouth. Eiri's caustic heart had thawed under Shuichi's touch these past few years but his smiles were still a rarity in public.

"How was the meeting with the head teacher this morning?"

"Fine" replied Eiri dryly "They just went through the curriculum and set texts I'll be covering with the class-" His voice wilted away suddenly causing concern amongst his friends.

"What's up?" asked Shuichi tentatively.

"It's nothing". Eiri mumbled, and then, "It's just that they want me to cover my autobiography as one of the coursework texts. Apparently it's an insightful portrayal of the use of personal experience and emotion in literature. He asked me if I was OK with it and I said I was – I would mess up all of their teaching plans and schedules if I quit now."

The September sunlight was cut off unexpectedly by the overcast sky throwing mysterious shadows though the café. The faint creases on Tohma's 35 year old face and the dark circles beneath his eyes that the recent birth of his second child had brought became evident as he said:

"They can't make you do that. Your biography is your private thoughts and-"

Eiri butted in "Well I sort of spoiled that when I published it didn't I". Tohma looked crestfallen as he continued "I don't think of it as my story; It's Eiri Yuki's story and I left him behind a long time ago. I've already asked that none of the staff tell the students who I am…was. And I'll get my hair cut this afternoon so I won't be so easily recognised"

Shuichi's expression was saddened a little as stroked Eiri's blond locks fondly but the sun's reappearance and their encouraging smiles left no doubt that they all wished the best for him.


	4. First Day

Disclaimer 

I don't own Gravitation.

**_Chapter 4 – First Day_**

Eiri stood at the front of a rectangular room leaning casually against the white rectangular board behind him. Between him and the light from the windows at the end stood a military arrangement of polypropylene chairs each stacked neatly on top of a melamine surfaced desk. He ran his fingers through his hair, shorter now and dyed chestnut brown. It had been eight years since he had last entered a classroom, was this really to be his future?

The calm of the room was interrupted by a series of regular, resonant thumping sounds against the linoleum tiles of the corridor, each one moving closer than the last as the army approached. Two boys entered the room, sixteen years a piece, tall, skinny, dressed in black clothing and with dark hair covering their eyes. One of them was dribbling a basket ball with one hand - the source of the thumping sounds – which he passed skilfully between his hands as he removed his rucksack from one shoulder then tossed the ball over the ranks of chairs to his friend. With both hands free he flung his satchel across the room causing it to skid along the back row of tables toppling the chairs like dominoes onto the floor.

Eiri took a few nonchalant steps forwards and picked up the ball which had rolled to the front of the classroom, "Property of Imperial College, Tokyo: Sports Department". He had suspected they weren't really the sporting type. They caught sight of Eiri for the first time as he raised his eyebrows at them.

"I should return that if I were you."

The boys sniggered quietly to each other and took the ball roughly as they walked to their seats at the back of the room. One sat cross-legged on the desk while the other righted a chair from the floor and slumped onto it with his feet on the table. After a minute, realising he hadn't given his students the best first impression, he decided to start a conversation.

"It's nice to see at least two people are keen for our first lesson."

The boys glanced at each other and exchanged a sarcastic grunt. "Not especially Sir" one replied coolly "we got thrown out of the library". Their expressions clearly showed no remorse for breaking whatever rule they had.

Eiri's acute glare forced them to elaborate. "We were playing hide-and-seek-"

"With Naomi's shoe and it got stuck." Interrupted the other.

"I didn't realise it would fall down, I just put it on top of the bookcase and pushed it to the back." He said this triumphantly as though he was proud to have caused so much havoc within only a few hours of the beginning of the new term.

Eiri turned to go back to his desk hiding his amusement at their teenage antics. Obviously the ability to keep a stern look regardless of the comic talents of your students was a skill learned with years of practice. At that moment a girl entered the room. She had long black hair plaited into a single braid that fell down her back parallel to her spine and her deep brown eyes were turned down at the corners from the weight of the tears that had fallen from them. She walked with a slight limp and Eiri looked down at her feet to see that one bare sole was covered with filth from the corridor floors. So this must be Naomi.

She took her place as far away as possible from the two boys. Actually, to say she was as far away as possible from them is not entirely true; she sat on the opposite side of the classroom on the second row from the front. The first row was reserved only for the geeks of the year which she certainly wasn't. She was a dreamer and often found herself lost in the maze of her own imagination during lessons causing her grades to suffer. Eiri watched with curiosity as she unpacked her rucksack and carefully arranged her pencil case, folder and pad of crisp lined paper at perpendicular and adjacent angles to the edges of the desk.

The students were coming in thick and fast now; each one unique and in some ways strangely similar. What mattered to them, fashion or music? Athletics or creativity? Popularity or rebellion? He could see each one was desperate to break free from the mould or normality, everyone fighting against a tide moving in the same direction. If everyone wants to be different what is left to be called normal?

Each teenager took a seat in the classroom as they decapitated the melamine and polypropylene soldiers and conquered their regimental rows to give way to the reign of the chaotic rabble.

Eiri coughed to bring the class to order, it was difficult to decide whether he felt nervous or not. "Welcome to your first English Literature lesson of the new term. As you are all probably aware, from reading the information packs that were posted to you during the summer holidays-" He paused doubtingly as the class muttered to each other. "That this course will be divided into two sections and in total we will be studying four texts over the next year. The first section which we will begin today is post-1914 Prose and Drama; we will be looking at _The Crucible_ by Arthur Miller and _Lover is a Cheap Title_, an autobiography by Eiri Yuki." There were some distinct murmurs exchanged amongst the female members of the class which caused Eiri to look up and glance around the room.

"Aren't any of you going to note this down?" There was a surge of movement as the students reached into their bags to retrieve paper and something to write with. The only person who had a pen to hand was Naomi and the flowing motion of her hand and absent expression made him fairly certain she wasn't taking notes.

He continued. "And the second section, Pre-1914 Prose and Drama, we will be studying _Hard Times_ by Charles Dickens and _Romeo and Juliet_ by Shakespeare."

The remaining fifty minutes passed in other general administrative tasks and as the bell rang at the end Eiri gladly dismissed the class. They could not have left faster and within thirty seconds the room had returned to a peaceful silence. Only one person was left behind as she slowly tidied her pencil case, folder, and pad of crisp lined paper into her rucksack again. She looked up at him realising she was the only one left and smiled shyly. He acknowledged her with a slight bow of his head.

"I think I'm going to enjoy this course." she said startling him. He had not expected her to be so forward. "I love Eiri Yuki's books, when I heard we were going to be studying it in school I was so excited I read the whole thing in one night!"

It felt bizarre to hear his books spoken about as though he was an outsider but it was nice to know she was enthusiastic and it confirmed that she had been listening earlier even if she had not been taking notes.

"I've never really been able to enjoy them myself; they're very much geared toward a female audience. I'm not a great fan of romance novels." She looked at him curiously for a second - She had been sure he was gay - but dismissed it quickly and went on.

"Really? I can't get enough of them; I've read everything he's ever written."

Eiri felt a twitch, something close to suppressed laughter. He was enjoying this. The bell rang for the start of the next class and Naomi, suddenly panicked, picked up her bag and limped out of the classroom with a hasty goodbye.

_What an odd girl?_ Eiri thought to himself, odd but pleasant nonetheless. He searched his register for her name to make a note of it.

Aizawa, Naomi.


	5. Perfection

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation.

a/n: Sorry this has taken so long to write, Christmas and all that and it is twice as long as all the other chapters.

**_Chapter 5 – Perfection_**

Working nine-till-five, Monday to Friday had taken some getting used to but several weeks later life had settled into a regular, perhaps monotonous pattern. On this Friday morning in October Shuichi was leaning over the bathroom sink of their apartment cleaning his teeth while Eiri stood by the open door resting one forearm against the door frame and the other hand coolly on his hip.

"I don't see why you don't just marry this Naomi girl, you talk about her so often anyone would think you were in love." said Shuichi, playfully trying to provoke him.

Eiri grumbled a little in protest. It was too early in the morning for Shuichi's games. "I'm not in love with her; it's just that she's the only person in my class who seems to take any interest in what I'm teaching."

"I'm sure she does. Probably because she has a crush on you."

"She wouldn't be the first, would she?". Shuichi spat into the sink and turned off the tap before looking round to flash his flawlessly polished rock star's grin. Eiri continued, "It's disturbing to think that she does; she's about eight years younger than me."

"That, coupled with the fact that you're gay and you already have a lover!" As he finished this sentence his voice rose and he spoke each syllable slowly as though Eiri was being stupid. "Perhaps you're not such a good match after all".

"I'm bi actually" replied Eiri ignoring the comment about his lover. Shuichi smiled fondly but he was suddenly interrupted by some unpleasant news. "Remember it's the theatre visit this evening, so I won't be back until late".

Shuichi's face fell and he looked at Eiri, heartbroken. He held back tears as he walked towards the door but Eiri stretched out his arm blocking the exit. Shuichi sighed and turned to face him reluctantly.

"What's wrong?"

He avoided Eiri's questioning gaze by looking down at the ground. At first the surge of sadness that had swollen in his throat prevented him from answering but then rage rose in his chest, how could Eiri be so thoughtless? He fought to keep his voice steady as he replied.

"Tonight, is an, anniversary" but Eiri continued to look at him with a puzzled expression so he continued"Tonight is three years, since the first time…" his words began to waver. "…since the first time we, did it".

"Oh" said Eiri, trying his best to be sympathetic although the fact was he hadn't even bothered to try to remember it or consider it a big deal. "And you were banking on getting some, were you?"

_Heartless jerk, heartless jerk._

"In case you've forgotten, the first time we did it happens to also be the first time I _ever_ did it" he forced the words with resentment. Eiri did feel sympathy towards him, he wasn't completely callous, but he'd been so involved with his new job, teaching, planning and marking that they rarely spent a decent length of uninterrupted time together.

He reached out and slid his hands around his lover's waist pulling him towards him. Their legs were intertwined and he could feel Shuichi's heartbeat next to his own as he stroked the head of pink hair that rested below his chin. Shuichi began to reciprocate by untucking Eiri's smartly arranged shirt and idly sliding one hand tenderly up over his stomach and chest. Eiri lifted Shuichi's chin gently with a finger bringing their eyes together, their noses brushing against each other and their lips touched affectionately.

Shuichi smiled broadly as they separated. "And that was just the preview," said Eiri "I should be back around 11:30 tonight." Shuichi watched dreamily as Eiri tucked his shirt in again and straightened his tie before leaving for college.

Considering all that they had gone through, life had never been closer to perfect than this. There was no doubt that they loved each other - albeit at times in disproportionate quantities; they both had secure careers; no financial constraints and a loyal, devoted friendship that extended at times to heights of passion.

Another monotonous day of lessons passed followed and at 5.30 the class gathered for the journey to the theatre beneath the autumn twilight which streaked oranges and cerise romantically across the horizons of the velvety sky. Before the performance began there was half an hour of free time when the students were allowed to explore the surrounding shops so Eiri was left to feign interest in the dry conversations of the other members of staff about curriculum structures and listen to their "constructive criticism" of his teaching techniques.

One girl was left behind, sitting on the low wall with a distant but serene expression on her face as she swung her legs back and fourth methodically so they thumped against the bricks. Eiri approached slowly, sidling away from the other teachers and stood beside her watching the sunset reflected in her brown eyes.

"Why didn't you go with the others?" he enquired in his casual manner.

She looked up a little surprised and then, realising this could initiate a conversation about her lack of friendships, she shrugged and turned away. Eiri's creative mind worked subconsciously to create a past for this child; he knew she was bullied, he knew she didn't fit in. He just couldn't guess why. Aizawa wasn't a particularly uncommon name but the idea she was related to Taki played a major role in his imagination. They shared their hair colour and eyes and the age difference between them, perhaps 7 or 8 years, could be that of a brother and sister.

Taki's sister? That could explain a lot. She had the same unusual, fanatical and slightly neurotic traits to her personality that he had discovered during their brief meeting. That brief meeting had been traumatic enough, what could it possibly be like to live with the man? Was she abused at home as well as school?

He indicated to her to follow him and they walked together to a bench by the river where they sat down. The light of the silver stars and the sodium glow of the streetlamps was shimmering on the surface of the rippling water.

"Why do they tease you?" but she ignored him and continued to stare vacantly at the mesmerising patterns of fractured metallic light. He didn't really understand why he cared. It wasn't really sympathy as much as curiosity that made him do it, but he reached out and took her cold fingers in his hands which were wrapped in a pair of warm black leather gloves. As he did, the sleeve of her jacket slid back slightly revealing several scars across her wrists. She flinched as though trying to hide them but he clutched her hands tighter to stop her and rolled back the sleeve of his own coat slightly.

"I was bullied at school too, If you talk to me I might be able to help you". He said with concern – which did not come easily to him. He felt a connection of understanding between them.

At the same time her mind worked subconsciously. There was evidence everywhere verifying her suspicions about him but she didn't dare to ask yet. Instead she tried to change the topic in her favour.

"Sir, which university did you go to? I'm looking at studying English Literature but I don't know where would offer the best course". He froze suddenly. Eiri Uesugi hadn't been to university because Yuki had started writing at just 18, but he couldn't tell her that without blowing his cover.

"I...urm" he began hesitantly "I didn't study here in Japan…I…"

Suddenly animated (She seemed to have only two extreme states of mind, always either full of life or quiet and pensive) she cut in.

"You didn't go, did you? I know who you are Eiri Yuki!" His dumb-struck expression told her she had guessed correctly. "It all fits! You're so talented and reserved, and you look alike, and I can see the blonde roots of your hair showing through, and you didn't go to university because you were better off writing novels and…" pausing for breath for the first time " you were bullied at school". She stopped all of a sudden with her mind caught on his autobiography where she had read most of the above information. She felt like she knew him and understood him like an old friend because he had portrayed his character so perfectly through his writing; but at the same time she knew him too well. There were events she had read about that she now saw connected to the history of the person who had written them and who was now sat beside her. She could see why he had wanted to hide who he was.

"Sorry" She humbly apologised.

Eiri coldly extracted his hands from Naomi's lap where they rested surrounding hers and he sighed as he rubbed his forehead in thought. "I don't suppose it matters if you know. Just keep it to yourself. OK?"

She nodded shyly. Despite the awkward situation she couldn't deny where she was. This man was her idol, Eiri Yuki. She had dreamed about meeting him and now that she finally had she could not imagine a more perfect set of circumstances. They were alone together, on a romantic autumn evening beside the river and they were holding hands – or at least they had been. In the uncomfortable silence that followed she continued to mentally flick though the pages of his novel fitting more and more details into her teacher's history. After a minute she forced a horrifying question into the stillness.

"What…what exactly, did my brother do?"

Eiri continued to press his palms into his forehead trying to block out his thoughts. His suspicions about her had been verified too. He didn't reply.

"You only mentioned it briefly in your autobiography. I remember I was thirteen and Taki's music was going well, but then he had his accident. He used to get drunk a lot then and I hardly ever saw him because I was at school and he came home so late, although his late nights weren't so bad for me because he wasn't the friendliest person to be around at the time. I know the music business is competitive but I can't understand why anyone would do that to him, not that I'm accusing you-". She was prattling uncontrollably and shaking with apprehension of his forthcoming answer.

"He had my lover, Shuichi, raped. And he took photographs." He said bluntly, wanting to punish her by shocking her with the harsh reality. She stared back at him with tears brimming in her eyes. He stood up and took a few contemptuous steps away but she caught hold of his coat feebly to pull him back.

"Please, don't go." she pleaded in a whisper "It wasn't my fault; I'm just his sister – related by blood but nothing more."

Eiri began to turn back towards her and he heard her voice shudder breathlessly with fear as she said:

"We've both been hurt by him."

They both felt the connection of understanding between them deepen; a rudimentary friendship formed on the cruel pasts they shared. The following performance passed in a bewildered blur as Eiri could barely concentrate with so many other thoughts to think of. He watched as Naomi walked away with her brother, one arm around her shoulder and the other holding a walking stick which he used to support the weight of his defective leg. He arrived at his apartment to find a bowl of cold noodles in the microwave to be reheated and Shuichi, fast asleep.


	6. The Wedding Party

Disclaimer 

I don't own Gravitation.

**_Chapter 6 – The Wedding Party_**

Eiri reread the inscription on the card he held in his hand.

"Mr and Mrs Usami request the attendance of Shuichi Shindou and Eiri Uesugi at the wedding of their daughter

Ayaka Usami

To

Mr Nakano Hiroshi

"The ceremony and following celebrations will be held in the Penthouse Suite of the Emperor Akihito Hotel-"

He looked questioningly at Shuichi over his reading glasses. "Do you think this is the right place?"

"It's got to be" he replied impatiently "Look at all the press and paparazzi waiting outside to get a snapshot of the happy couple."

Eiri pulled the car up to kerb and immediately cameras began to flash in their direction. Shuichi placed one hand on the door to open it and then paused, "Can we go in together?"

"No, I'm still trying to keep a low profile remember?" said Eiri shaking his head. "You go in alone and I'll drive around the block a few times then try to find a back entrance. Have you got your speech?" asked Eiri in a way that reminded Shuichi strongly of his mother. He tapped the top pocket of his dinner jacket as Eiri began to straighten his bow-tie.

Shuichi pushed his hand away "Don't do that, I'm making a fashion statement". Shuichi's bow tie was wrapped around his neck like a chocker rather than under the collar of his shirt which was untucked with only two of the buttons fastened revealing a large portion of his chest. He had insisted on cutting the black trousers of his tuxedo into shorts with the feeble excuse that trousers would "restrict his moves on the dance-floor" and the whole outfit was finished off with a top-hat he had found at a vintage clothing store.

"They're not going to let you in. This is a black-tie occasion."

"I'm sure they can make an exception for me" Shuichi said cheekily. He gave Eiri a quick peck on the cheek before opening the door. He slipped a pair of dark sunglasses over his eyes and Eiri watched as he left the car posing for photographs and enjoying the flattery from the crowd of adoring fans.

A few hours later Eiri sat alone at his table amongst a collection of bottles and glasses that had recently contained a wide selection of alcoholic beverages but didn't anymore. Shuichi was long gone; lost in the violent mosh-pit in front of the stage where Nittle Grasper were performing. The mass of heads moved up and down methodically in time with the music and shimmered in the strobe lighting. He glanced around the room. There were only a few people who were still sitting at the tables around the edges one of whom caught his attention as their eyes made contact across the hall. It wasn't the first time that had happened. Was it normal for two peoples' eyes to meet so many times across a crowded room?

It was Naomi of course. He didn't really think her being there was particularly significant; the party was by no means small and she could easily be a relative of Hiro or Ayaka. What _was_ significant though, was the fact that he was fairly sure her eyes had barely left him all evening. He looked away briskly and slumped lower down in his chair trying to ignore her.

There was a tap on his shoulder.

"Yuki?" An uncomfortable feeling of dread swept over him pushing him lower in the seat, he couldn't ignore her now, and he turned round saying bitterly:

"Please don't call me that. My name is Eiri Uesugi, Professor Uesugi to you."

"Sorry, it's hard to remember. Anyway I was wondering, would you dance with me?"

He snorted. "I'm not that drunk yet, thank you." His tongue felt thick in his mouth and there was a noticeable delay between his harsh wit and his voice. Perhaps he was more drunk than he thought. She pulled out one of the chairs next to him and sat down forcing another wave of dread to push him further down in his chair.

"Go on Sir," she encouraged him "It'll be fun and I won't tell anyone at college".

He ignored her pestering and looked away but she continued to watch him with disappointment and longing in her expression. Without warning, she lurched foreword and kissed him.

"What did you do that for!?" He shouted infuriated, pushing her back.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me. I just wanted to know what it would feel like. I love you Yuki." She blurted out.

He sighed heavily. "You don't love me, you're confused. You've fallen in love with the façade I put on for the cameras and the characters in my books but you can't possibly know who I really am."

She looked at him helplessly and stammered "I…I _do_ love you". He shook his head and took a swig from the beer bottle in his hand.

Why he did what he did next will always be a mystery; partly because he was too drunk to remember exactly what he did do and also because no one could possibly explain it. He took her hand again as he had on the night by the river and lead her to the darkened corridor near the bathrooms out of sight and earshot of the other guests. He kissed her on the lips.

She looked at him shocked. "What? This is what you want isn't it?" He kissed her again holding her shoulders worryingly tightly. There was no affection in his actions; it was more to prove a point than anything else. She began to struggle but he didn't care. He wanted to show her the pain her brother had caused. A taste of her own medicine. He caressed her back and began to slide his hand down her back clawing at the hem of her dress.

A gunshot sounded.

Pain began to spread though his body but not the pain of a bullet wound. It was the pain of every suppressed memory resurfacing in his mind. There was no time to feel the relief that should have filled him as he realised it was not a gunshot but simply the bursting of the balloon that had become compressed between his back and the wall. It might as well have been a gunshot though because its effect could not have been more devastating. In that split-second explosion he felt his heart implode and he saw everything he was. And what he had become.

As he slackened his grip he felt a second pain, this time across his face, Naomi had slapped him. He watched as best he could through vision blurred by the effects of the alcohol and the tears in his eyes as she stormed away adjusting the straps of her gown. He felt his knees buckle underneath him so his back slid down the wall and he sat crumpled on the floor.

Eiri watched his reflection in the bathroom mirror and Yuki watched him back. He was about the same age now as Kitazawa was when he died and his hair was shorter now, dyed chestnut brown. He too was a teacher who had taken advantage of his student's affection.

"It's true. I'm no better than you Yuki" he spat under his breath at this window to his past. His eyes were stinging from the tears they so rarely felt and he gripped the basin trying to dig his nails into the porcelain. He hung his head in disgrace wishing that he would be sucked into the plughole and wake-up to find this had all been a terrible hallucination. Twisting his fists into his hair he hoped in vain that the pain could bring him out of this nightmare.

A sudden noise behind caused him spin around to face the door. It was Shuichi, the last person he wanted to see right now. His hair was tousled and soaked with sweat; he smiled at Eiri.

"Gosh, you look a state! I didn't think anyone could head-bang quite as violently as I can but it looks like I have some competition." He began to laugh but stopped at Eiri's blank response and examined his lover's appearance more closely. In all the three years they had known each other he had never seen him look quite so pathetic. He walked towards him and put his arm around his shoulder sympathetically. His whole body was shaking violently.

"Tell me what's wrong. Is it Ayaka? Do you still like her? I understand of course if you still have feelings for her, you were engaged after all. I guess seeing her so happy with Hiro is all a bit too-"

Eiri pulled away from him aggressively. "You don't understand!" he snarled back. They were standing face to face. Shuichi's expression changed quickly from surprise to concern before contorting into a disgusted glare as he noticed the trace of lipstick on Eiri's mouth.

"I think I understand perfectly well!" He shouted.

Fist to head and head to mirror. Eiri's head hit the wall above the sinks and the mirror shattered around the point of impact like a sinister halo of splintered glass. He stared emptily upward in silence at the ceiling as he clung to consciousness and the second person walked out of his life this evening. Blood began to trickle though the fragments of glass on the floor as tears trickled through the fragments of their shattered relationship.

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this so far, I really appreciate it. However, I am kind of annoyed about the hits to reviews ratio. Out of a current rate of 1156 hits I only have 8 reviews 2 of which are from Laura who (not that I don't value your opinion as much as the others dude) is really obliged to say something nice or I will kick her but from here to New-Glaukenshire at school on Monday. That means roughly only 1 person out of every 192.666666 has written a review! I did think it was a bit pathetic when people put "PLEASE, PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!" etc but now I see why they do it. I want to know the good the bad and the ugly (preferably the good of course) so if it's not too much trouble REVIEW NOW OR DIE!!

x x x x x


	7. Dried Blood and a Bitter Love Note

Disclaimer 

I don't own Gravitation.

**VERY IMPORTANT A/N: **The underlined bits in the letter are meant to be CROSSED OUT. I couldn't work out how to do it on a computer.

**_Chapter 7 – Dried Blood and a Bitter Love Note_**

Eyes closed but awake. He could see the room was brightly lit. It was silent, he lay motionless, sober, and the only feeling was a dull throbbing ache at the back of his skull. This was one heck of a hangover.

"Shuichi? Fetch me an aspirin." He tried to say but his voice emerged as a hoarse, barely audible whisper. Where had he been last night? Why had he drunk so much?

He remembered the party. He remembered a wide selection of alcoholic beverages. His thoughts moved languidly and each one caused his headache to intensify. There was no knowing how much time elapsed between each thought. Minutes. Hours. He fought to reach indistinguishable memories that had sunk beneath shadowy waters; far out of his depth.

Where was Shuichi with that aspirin?

Had he actually asked for an aspirin?

Where was Shuichi?

He opened one eye cautiously. His eyelids felt heavy and he winced at the bright light. The pain seemed to rupture as he squinted, spreading to the sides of his head and he let go; falling back into the soft pillow. He allowed his breathing to steady. He was too sore to be concerned or aggravated by the whereabouts of his lover.

A gunshot sounded. He remembered a gunshot.

His eyes snapped open suddenly as two memories surfaced in his aching mind. The first, a memory he had tried to block out. His own hand gripped the cold weapon. The second, he strained to remember, he knew he had been the victim of this shot. He scanned his body for another pain but found only the headache that had begun to subside again to a dull throbbing ache. Surely he hadn't been shot in the head, had he?

His hand moved slowly up to touch his head and found bandages. He caught sight of his fingers. Dried blood was crusted beneath the fingernails. More questions pummelled his already unbearable brain. What? Why? How?

Now that his eyes were open he looked for the first time at his surroundings. A standard hospital room. A clinical white ceiling, magnolia walls, drab taupe curtains and the floor - which he couldn't see from his current position - he was fairly sure would be an equally mundane excuse for a colour. He turned his head tentatively to one side and looked at the bedside table where he saw a thin stack of coloured envelopes from get well wishers and his valuable possessions of a watch, earring and wallet. It was 4.30pm, 11th October. Seriously? He had no recollection at all of four days following the party; had he really slept for all that time? Perhaps this headache was more severe than just a hangover.

He opened the first envelope, it was a letter and he easily recognised Shuichi's childish scrawl.

_My Dearest Eiri,_

_The nurse told me things are looking hopeful and there's a very good chance you'll make a full recovery. Personally I hope you don't. I couldn't care less if you never see the light of day again. As your reading this though I guess I've been unlucky this time. I was foolish. I gave you too many second chances when all along I knew you were too good for me._

_The nurse also said you could have some trouble with memory so in case you've forgotten I'll remind you what you did. Or at least I would if I could. To be completely truthful I don't know myself. But I do know you cheated; I know you lied; I know you're a jerk and I know I hate you. _

_I don't hate you. I hate the things you do. I hate the way you treat me but I cannot deny how completely I love you. Unreciprocated, unrequited, unconditionally and so much it's wrong._

_The college rang. You don't have a job anymore. And when you leave hospital I won't be there either. I'm moving out. I suppose this will give you a chance to start over altogether this time. I've been hurt too much and it's too painful for me to be part of your life anymore._

_Yours affectionately always,_

_Shuichi_

He remembered exactly what had happened the night before now. Word for word. And he wished he didn't. Shuichi hated him, and rightly so. He hated himself.

He threw back the covers and pushed his shaking legs out of bed fighting the pain in his head. His brain felt like it had come loose inside his skull and spun round nauseatingly bumping against the sides. He stumbled across the room clinging to the furniture to stay upright and fell to his knees in front of a chair placed in the corner for visitors. The room came slowly back into focus as he recovered his breath.

The clothes he had been wearing when he was brought into hospital were neatly folder on the seat and with trembling fingers he searched the pockets for his mobile phone. He needed to speak to Shuichi, to tell him the truth. He desperately needed to apologise but as he reached for the call button he faltered. How could he possibly defend himself in this condition? He was barely even conscious as a struggled against the splitting pain. This could wait until he had his strength back.

Instead he found a voicemail recorded a few weeks ago. Just to hear Shuichi's voice again.

"Hi Eiri, It's me. Just to let you know the traffic here is insane! We probably won't be back until gone ten at the earliest. Could you leave my dinner in the fridge to heat up when I get back? Thanks. Miss you loads. Love you! Bye."

A dry, insensitive female voice cut in. "To delete the message press 3. To save the message press 1."

Eiri hit 1. "Message saved." Saved forever. He wanted to save this memory and listen to it over and over. It could be the last time he ever heard that voice say "I love you" and he realised he had never said it in return.

He lay down on the cold floor tiles which seemed soothing to his bitter pain; now more emotional than physical. Humbled and heartbroken, the tears began to fall and he was not ashamed.

**A/N **Thanks again for all your reviews. The hits to reviews ratio is now a much healthier 1 to 105.5333. That doesn't mean you can stop though :-)


	8. The Day Before Yesterday

Disclaimer 

I don't own Gravitation.

**_Chapter 8 – The Day Before Yesterday_**

"You heard about what happened at the reception? Tohma?" Asked Hiro uncertainly. It was Monday, the first day back at work since the wedding and the day before what you have just read in the previous chapter. They were alone in the office at N-G, engulfed by the suffocating tension as they both waited for the other to bring up the events on Saturday night. Hiro and Ayaka were not to leave on their honeymoon straight away. There were several days to be spent finalising set lists and debriefing before departing for London on Bad Luck's European tour.

Tohma nodded awkwardly "I was on stage at the time, of course, but word got around to me". His voice was unusually dry and his vacant expression showed his mind was on other things. He plunged in with the burning question. "Have you heard from Shuichi, since-…?" He faltered.

"No. I've tried to make contact but he won't answer my calls".

An ironic smile appeared on Tohma's face despite the serious situation but the smile was undermined by insipid notes of anxiety in his voice. "That's going to make work a little difficult. Our lead singer is AWOL just days before a major tour".

An ear-splitting collision sounded at the end of the room and they both spun around. Shuichi was there; and he certainly wasn't dressed like a hero. He hadn't been home, he hadn't washed, or changed his clothes, or slept, or eaten a square meal all week-end. Tohma and Hiro watched, startled and frozen in fear as they anticipated his reaction.

"Good morning everyone! I'm wide awake and ready for another fulfilling day at work!" His behaviour shocked them possibly more than his original entrance.

"Shuichi? Are you sure you're OK?"

"Fine! I'm fine, I've never felt better". His voice began to quaver and he doubled-up, trembling, crushed by the weight of his lies. He crumpled onto the sofa beside them.

Hiro put a comforting arm around his distraught friend's shoulders. "Everything is going to be OK. We all know what happened, and I'm sure Tohma wouldn't mind if you had the day of, right Tohma?" He gave him a pleading look.

"You know what happened do you!?" shouted Shuichi suddenly "I'd like to hear that! I don't even know what I did! I don't know what _he_ did!" Tohma and Hiro watched nervously as Shuichi's ragged breathing and seemed to gradually slow and his temper subsided to breathless sobs. "My poor Eiri." he said distraught, "I have to go and see him!"

Tohma shook his head. "There wouldn't be any point. I visited the hospital earlier and the nurse said his sedation is pretty heavy, it'll be a good 48 hours before he wakes up from the coma."

"Coma!?" yelled Shuichi, "What sort of boyfriend am I?!" He stared at the ground hopelessly.

"Shuichi, I don't think you should go and see Eiri". He sighed as he tried to think of the gentlest way to break the news. "I don't think you should see Eiri at all anymore. Your relationship has never been exactly secure and beneficial, has it? I really believe you should end it -."

"Tohma!" shouted Hiro indignantly; but he stopped as he caught sight of Shuichi's fraught expression.

"He's right." Shuichi whispered disbelievingly. "I've been such a fool. I can't take it anymore. Fetch me a pen."

Tohma obeyed sheepishly, walked to the desk, and brought back a pen and paper. Shuichi wrote a note in a quivering scrawl, scribbled and blotched with tears. When he was finished he banged the pen down onto the table.

"Take it away before I change my mind." he said gravely. He looked imploringly at Hiro; "This is the right thing to do, isn't it?"

"Urm, yeah. Sure." Trying to hide his uncertainty. "You can stay at my place for the time being. And when we leave on Thursday you'll have plenty time to get some distance, sort things out. I bet there are loads of hot chicks, or guys, in London who'll be desperate to get in your pants now they know you're single again."

A feeble jolt of laughter cracked through Shuichi's despairing tones. "You've been married for less than three days Hiro, and already you're having lustful thoughts!" he teased. The pair embraced each other and cautiously looked forward to a brighter future.

Tohma visited Eiri in hospital several times over the following week although his visits always seemed to conveniently coincide with when Eiri was sleeping. _Rest is very important for a recovering patient, Mr Seguchi_, the nurse had told him, and he had been forced to let him lay peacefully there while he was taunted by so many unanswered questions. Eiri didn't want to speak to anyone, except Shuichi, and he wasn't surprised that he didn't visit given the way he had treated him. He ignored his visitors, pretending to be asleep and enjoying listening to their confidential confessions that were poured into his unconscious ears.

After a week Eiri's stitches and bandages were removed and he was able to walk carefully up and down the hospital corridors avoiding any sudden movements which caused his head to split with pain. He sat down on the edge of his bed and set the kettle on the desk to boil, watching it absent-mindedly.

There was a knock at the door; Eiri's hand jerked and the kettle dribbled hot water over his hand that held the cup steady. There was no time to get help now. He clambered hastily between the sheets and lay down. There was another knock at the door; the click of the catch; the door swung shyly open; single footsteps paced across the room. Eiri craved to snatch a peak at his visitor but it was too risky.

"Asleep again Eiri?" Tohma enquired affectionately. He pulled a chair up to the side of the bed noting the recently boiled kettle with concern. How long since he had been awake? At least this did confirm that he had woken up from the coma and was recovering even if he couldn't speak to him. He dismissed his suspicions and sat down stroking his brother-in-laws greasy, tangled brown-blonde hair.

"Oh, Eiri." He sighed miserably and rested his head on the pillow gazing into his innocent face, dead to the world. "If you could only hear what I have to say. What I've done." He ran his fingers through Eiri's hair once more then traced them delicately across the contours of his cheekbones and jaw. "I'm such an idiot! Shuichi's gone and it's entirely my fault. I can never make you as happy as he can; I was stupid to think I could. You know I can't. Shuichi seems to think it's best for him too though. But that's only because I practically forced his to write that note. With all my connections this is probably the only thing I can't make right."

Eiri was seething with anger. He could feel the blood pulsing through his burned hand. He couldn't do anything; he didn't know how to react. So he stayed perfectly still, not even the flickering of an eyelash could spoil the illusion as Tohma continued to obliviously confess his underhand behaviour.

"I love you Eiri, much more than as my friend and brother-in-law. I suppose I've always been jealous of Shindou. I love your sister too, of course. And I love Takahiro and Saki; your nephew and niece. But not as much as you. I did it all for you Eiri."

He sighed again. There was no point staying any longer and he stood up to leave. Single footsteps paced across the room; the door swung open again; the click of the catch.

Eiri's eyes snapped open as the door closed. Furious. His head throbbing with rage he reached for the half-filled mug of coffee on his desk and flung it against the back of the closed door. It smashed into white, sabre-toothed fragments and the brown liquid trickled down the wood like smeared blood.

"You bastard Seguchi!" He bellowed.

The door opened cautiously again and Tohma's frightened face appeared. "Eiri! Y-you're awake?!" He stammered in terror.

"You're damn right I am. I heard everything!"

"Please Eiri, calm down!" Tohma pleaded. He could hear hospital staff hurrying towards the disturbance.

"I hate you Tohma! I hope you burn in hell!" He saw his own hand reach out towards the bedside table to grab something, a weapon to throw, but his mind felt detached from his actions. A swam of wasps seemed to be surrouning him inside his head; buzzing, heavy, dark, stinging. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see.

He blacked-out.

**A/N: **Sorry this has taken so long to update, hope you think it was worth the wait! I'm also sorry that I said at the beginning of this that there wouldn't be any of that kind of language but clearly I was wrong. Anyone who knows me in real life (or at least all two of you that I know read this) will know that I am strongly against swearing. However, I figured it would be OK in this situation because…

a) It really is integral to the story. I think even I would slacken my moral standards and swear if I was in the same situation.

b) It wasn't me that said it, Eiri did.

c) I didn't say it out loud; I typed it into the computer which isn't quite the same.

I'm really very sorry God if you disagree :-D

Oh and by the way…92.8!! I love you guys! Now go forth and review :-D


	9. Foudroyée, Mais Avec un Sourire

Disclaimer 

I don't own Gravitation.

Dedication

To Anna, my Paris buddy and the greatest überfoolo the world has ever seen :-D (So much so that I even went and found an umlaut to make it officially über). And to Laura of course.

_**Chapter 9 – Foudroyée, Mais Avec un Sourire**_

A month later, in early November, Eiri was discharged from hospital despite three weeks of disgruntled pleading with the staff that he was fine to go home. Although from a physiological perspective his wounds were healing well he knew there was only one man who could cure him and settle his inner turmoil. His violent outburst had prompted fears for his psychological well-being and further tests were carried out dredging up exiled memories he struggled to steer clear of.

He had to find Shuichi and set their affairs straight. Was there a chance he still loved him? Echoes of the bitter love note and Tohma's visit taunted him constantly, confused fragments, distorted and tangled between reality and dreams.

"_Shuichi seems to think it's best for him too… I knew you were too good for me…I couldn't care less if you never see the light of day again… it's entirely my fault…I know you lied…I love you…I practically forced his to write that note…Jerk…Love…Hate"._

His thoughts were floundering. He needed to know the truth.

Paris. That was where Shuichi was. Bad Luck's tour of Europe took them through all the major capital cities; Helsinki, Stockholm, Oslo, Copenhagen, Edinburgh, London, and according to their online schedule they would be performing in Paris the following weekend. For someone who was supposedly hiding from his obnoxious partner he certainly did a good job of making his location known especially as their Tour Diary revealed they had a publicity photo shoot at the Eiffel Tower on Friday evening.

Subtle bribery and a timely cancellation were effortless prices to pay for true love and Eiri arrived in Paris the following day. _True Love?_ He thought. Was that what he felt now? He couldn't tell. A family devoid of affection; a series of lustful one-night-stands and experiences that had left him so coldhearted he thought true love was something he would never experience. A concept for his novels but not for him.

The Métro journey: Aéroport Charles de Gaule to Gard du Nord; Gard du Nord to Montparnasse Bienvenue; Montparnasse Bienvenue to Invalides; Invalides to Champs de Mars. The Eiffel Tower. He read and re-read the map as he perched tensely on the edge of a bench twisting and tearing the ticket nervously between his fingers. _Nervous?_ He thought. It wasn't like him to be nervous. Was this what love did to people? He glanced cautiously up and down the train carriage; it was like stepping back in time compared to Japan. The seat was padded with foam covered in cheap, brown, synthetic leather and everything was rimmed with the scuffed stainless steel that had preceded chrome. As the train rested momentarily at stations he caught glimpses of late 18th century neoclassical architecture crisscrossed by functional iron girders.

He reached Champs de Mars and stepped out into the cool dusk. The tower was strikingly majestic in the twilight like an illuminated silhouette eclipsing the skyline, and even more beautiful because this was the end of the journey. This was where he would meet Shuichi.

Eiri's shoes clanged against each iron step as he climbed the stairs, two at a time, pushing his way passed crowds of tourists, to the first level. "Excusze me, monsieur! Pleeze do not run!" Shouted an attendant, assuming he spoke English, but he wouldn't stop for anything. He passed the first floor without stopping to enjoy the panoramic views or gift shop; determined to reach the top. A further three hundred and fifty nine steps took him to the second floor where he joined the queue for the lift to the top floor.

The queue moved slowly forward and eventually he was crammed into a claustrophobic capsule with around thirty other visitors as they all moved smoothly upwards. His heartbeat began to race, not only because he was increasingly conscious of how high up he was, but because their confrontation was moving closer. Every metre upwards, every second closer to the end.

They passed another carriage moving downwards in the opposite direction and Eiri's heart lurched. Shuichi could be in that carriage. They could pass by, missing each other by seconds, and never realise. The lift stumbled to a halt and the doors slid open to a glass-walled room packed with chattering people. Surely they couldn't hold a photo shoot here, could they? Then he saw it; the steps to the outdoor viewing platform were barred by a chain across the entrance and a sign which read:

Mesdames et Messieurs, nous sommes désolés, mais la galerie de visionnement est fermée pour l'usage privé. Merci de votre coopération.

Closed for private use? This was it! Shuichi was just a few steps away. In the bustling crowd no one noticed him subtly unhook the barrier and make his way up the final flight of stairs. He could feel a fierce wind whipping across his face and his sweaty hands clung tightly to the banister.

The team of photographers were distracted packing away cameras and other equipment. At last, he caught sight of Shuichi leaning against a railing on the outer edge of the platform; peaceful, solitary, gazing wistfully over the glimmering skyline. Now that he was finally here it seemed too easy; it didn't feel real. Eiri felt a smart twinge at the back of his skull; a constant reminder of his dark past which he knew would fade and heal with time and much more easily now that it had become scar tissue rather than an open wound.

One thousand foot from the ground; take the plunge: Would he fall or fly?

Eiri stood silently behind Shuichi and slid his arms around his shoulders, wrapping them around his neck in an unreciprocated embrace. He felt Shuichi's body give an alarmed shudder like a frightened child. He was trapped, but Eiri held him closer, protecting him.

He knew these arms that caressed him. He knew these hands that locked into each other across his chest. He knew this man; his smell; his heartbeat that pulsed against his back. Shuichi waited and grimaced in anguish as he tried to think of an appropriate way to respond.

He spun round. They were standing face to face, close enough to kiss. "Eiri?!"

"Do you love me?" Eiri asked unexpectedly.

"Yes-, No! I shouldn't, I can't. Tohma said-" He stuttered and faltered apprehensively as Eiri touched his lips with a finger to silence him.

"It doesn't matter what Tohma said. Do you love me?"

Why did Eiri even need to ask? He had told him so many times already the words seemed to have lost their meaning and he'd never had a worthy response. He nodded feebly, confused, and all the while transfixed by the radiant golden glow that seemed to be emitted from his intense stare. He looked away, trying to hide his tears but they glinted in the light of the bulbs that lit the tower making his answer all too clear. The wind whipped Shuichi's stray long hairs across his face and they clung to the glistening wet tracks of the tears on his cheeks. Eiri gently brushed them away as he pleaded "Please, Shuichi-".

"Of course I love you." He replied emphatically. "I've never stopped loving you. But I finally realised what a fool I am; you never loved me back!"

"I _do_ love you."

Shuichi blinked and stared in disbelief; he had said it, finally said it and meant it. Or had he?

"What did you say?" He asked, wanting to make sure he had heard correctly the first time.

"I- I love you Shuichi, I really do." Eiri whispered as he nuzzled his nose into Shuichi's hair.

"Pardon?" questioned Shuichi playfully.

"Now you're just taking the piss." He said irritably. Shuichi grabbed his coat to stop him leaving.

"OK, I love you too." And he kissed him, not caring that he was pinned against the wire mesh or that the cold steel handrail was digging into his back. He grinned broadly and Eiri smiled too; not a smirk, or a sneer, or a hollow widening of the lips across the surface of the face turned on for the sake of being charming. A genuine and beautiful smile.

"You know one good thing that's come out of all this?" questioned Eiri quietly.

Shuichi laughed. "I can think of a few things." He teased as he affectionately caressed his lover's neck.

"I have plenty of inspiration to start writing again."

**A/N:** For those of you who don't speak French, the title of this chapter is "Struck down, But With a Smile" and the sign on the entrance to the stairs says "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are sorry but the viewing gallery is closed for private use. Thank you for your cooperation". Also, the Métro route to The Eiffel Tower is correct but it has been extended for artistic purposes. You can get there a much quicker way but it doesn't sound as good in writing.

Merci pour votre revues mais revue maintenant s'il vous plait:-D

x x x x x x x


	10. A New Beginning

Disclaimer 

I don't own Gravitation.

**_Chapter 10 – A New Beginning_**

Considering all that they had gone through, life had truly never been closer to perfect than this.

Perhaps a little too perfect to be honest.

Considering all that they had gone through how "perfect" could they really expect life to be? How long could it last before it would all go wrong again? Just over an hour in fact; the Metro journey between Champs de Mars and the hotel at Gare D'Austerlitz. Things started to fall apart again.

Waiting for the train on the platform. The sun had set; not that that mattered underground. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, not the sun, not the moon, not the stars. Because the universe was trivial to their love. The only stars they saw were in each other's eyes and everything became fireworks, bubbles in champagne, giggling cupids, floating pink marshmallow hearts…it doesn't fit, does it? A novelist and a rock star? You've got to be kidding!

The platform was crowded but quiet as the rush-hour traffic accumulated and people shifted apologetically past each-other to find an open space. Tired business men and women longing to see their families at the weekend.

Unexpectedly, a young boy darted through the crowd, around six or seven years old, jostling past the other passengers. He tripped and stumbled falling to his knees next to Shuichi's rucksack which was resting on the ground by his feet. "Woah, Slow down kid!" Cried Shuichi suddenly surprised. "Are you OK? Where's your Mum?" he continued, forgetting that the boy was French and it was very unlikely he would understand Japanese. The boy turned his blonde head to face him with a curious look; he took Shuichi's hand to pull himself to his feet; brushed the grit off his knees and ran off again down the platform without a word.

"Pierre!" cried a panicked young woman as her footsteps clicked on the concrete steps down into the station. "Pierre!" She shouted again as she approached them. She was dressed in a short skirt and stiletto heels with a designer handbag swinging from one shoulder which looked cheap alongside her outfit and was almost certainly a fake. She pushed through the crowd and collided with Eiri and Shuichi.

"Pardon Monsieur, J'ai perdu mon fils!". She looked away from their blank expressions and glanced frantically up and down the platform finally catching sight of her son, the blonde boy, skulking by a litter bin a few metres away. She took a firm hold on his shoulder and began to scold him furiously under her breath. The commotion their antics had caused amongst the crowd began to settle back to its lethargic torpor as Shuichi and Eiri grinned at each other, contented.

"Excuse-moi? Pleeze monsieur, I beleeve zat theis belongs to you?" Shuichi turned round to look at the boy's mother. She spoke in English with a strong French accent hoping that he could understand. He looked at her confused and at the wallet which she held out to him. He took it cautiously and flipped open the cover to look inside. It was his.

"What? But h-…How? How did you get this?" He stammered astounded. She pushed the boy towards him.

"Je suis désolé, monsieur" he said stiffly and grudgingly. His mother nudged him to prompt him to continue. "Pour voler votre pochette". Shuichi understood enough to realise - even without any knowledge of French - that the boy had stolen his wallet from his rucksack when he had fallen next to it, and yet, he couldn't help but be amused and impressed by such cunning skill demonstrated by such a young child. He ruffled the boy's blonde locks warmly as he stared sulkily up at him. His mother gave them a sympathetic look, regretful of her son's behaviour and appreciative of Shuichi's good-natured temperament, but her gaze lingered on Eiri's tall figure longer than she seemed to notice.

"Thank-you" She said quietly and averted her gaze quickly as the metal tracks began to rumble like a tap running underwater and a thunderous wind rose to announce the arrival of the train.

They boarded the train and stood in the packed gangway squeezed uncomfortably between the cold windows and sweaty bodies of the other passengers. The woman from earlier was stood close to them with one red finger nailed hand gripping a chrome railing and the other tightly clasped around her sons wrist. Shuichi pushed his sunglasses up onto his head and grinned at the sullen faced boy. The kid continued to look sulkily at the floor of the compartment.

The train plunged upwards across an over ground section of track as though to snatch a breath of the glittering Parisian nightlife before soaring back underground. The city lights slashed repeatedly through the carriage like flickering lightning until they came to each station which was lit by the same harsh, static, fluorescent bulbs.

Shuichi saw the boy's mother shift her feet uncomfortably and he looked up to see that she was staring intently at Eiri. To his surprise, Eiri had apparently noticed this but rather than sweet-talking with her, he looked uneasy and was trying awkwardly to turn his face away and avoid eye-contact although this was difficult in the crowded carriage. Leaping to conclusions: Was she trying to hit on him? Evidently she hadn't noticed they were together. Then again, she was already a mother, married perhaps? Her expression did look more curious than flirtatious now that he really looked at her.

Perhaps she was a fan. Eiri used to be recognised all the time on the street. But why wasn't she shouting out and asking for autographs like all the others? Did she recognise him? Who was she? Who did she think she was? With a huff he turned away and watched her son who was picking crumbs of foam out of a hole in the synthetic leather seat cover with his free hand. His blond hair and moody expression seemed slightly familiar to Shuichi. The boy's mother shuffled her feet again. He came to his senses and looked up abruptly; he was tired and dismissed his thoughts as an idol daydream.

She spoke up: "Yuki Eiri?". Shuichi was shocked; she knew his name! But Eiri looked back at her with a guilty sigh as though resigned to accept the consequences. "Yuki. You are…You are the-" she spoke slowly and intently as she struggled to find the words to say, particularly as she was speaking in a foreign language.

"I know. I know!" He interrupted, sharp and indignant. He ran his fingers through his hair and held his head desperately in his hands.

"We must talk about thies, Yuki, pleeze?"

Shuichi, completely lost in their English exchanges, found himself wishing for the first time ever that he had paid the slightest bit of attention in school so he would have a clue what they were talking about.

"Yes, I know!" Eiri said tensely. "But not now. I would rather Shuichi did not hear this."

**A/N:** ooooooh, cliff-hanger hey? Sorry again for taking so long but I don't expect things to get any quicker in the near future as I'm coming up to end-of-year exams and, as much as I love writing this, they really must take priority :-( I suggest that if you want to read the next chapter you put this on alert (or your favourites list ;-) I don't mind!) so you don't forget about it. Thanks again to everyone.

x x x x x x


	11. But not as cheap as Hooker

Disclaimer

I still don't own Gravitation.

_**Chapter 11 –…But Not as Cheap as "Hooker"**_

The rest of the train journey was beyond uncomfortable, awkward and tense. At Eiri's request, Pierre and his mother followed them back to the hotel so that they could discuss the situation.

"Shuichi. Would you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes? I'd like to talk to Adèle alone." Shuichi didn't say anything; he simply turned huffily on his heel and walked up the steps into the foyer. He watched his own feet as they climbed the five flights of stairs to his room taking out his anger by childishly stomping on every step. He felt a little calmer by the time he reached their floor but his mind was still wildly questioning.

He shoved his hand into his pocket for the key. Where was it? Eiri had it. He hadn't trusted him with it after he had let himself be pick-pocketed by a six year old. He knocked on the door next to theirs, Ayaka and Hiro's, and after a short wait it was opened by Hiro wearing only his pyjama trousers.

"Hiro, darling? Who is it?" Called a sweet voice from out of sight inside the room.

"It's just Shuichi." He said and then turned to speak to him. "What's up Shu? If you want something from the mini-bar I've told you before you'll have to pay for it on your own bill." He chuckled to himself but his laughter was not mirrored in Shuichi's response. Embarrassed, his cheeks coloured slightly and he nervously twirled a strand of long red hair around his finger. "Seriously, what's up?"

"Everything! Can I use your window?"

"Urm…yeah, I guess so. Go ahead." He stood aside to let Shuichi into their room and watched, confused, as he flung the window open and leaned out to look down onto the street outside. The wintry breeze swept into the room. Ayaka shivered at the cold.

"Please Shuichi, tell us what's going on." She said as she pulled her satin dressing gown around her and walked over to the window to see what he was looking at. From five storeys away he could make out their vague figures in the darkness lit by the streetlamps. Pierre had obviously grown tired and was slumped on the hotel steps scuffing his shoes on the pavement and digging his heels into the gravel. Eiri and Adele were talking; loud enough to hear their conversation but not to hear what they were saying. Shuichi strained his ears and watched every word, every gesture, every motion like a vulture in silence from his vantage point.

He saw them exchange parting gestures and Eiri disappeared into the entrance hall beneath them.

"Well thanks for that. OK, I'll see you tomorrow, bye!" Said Shuichi nervously as he walked towards the door.

"Aren't you going to tell us what's going-…?" but he was gone. He waited outside their door and watched Eiri approach up the stairwell, walk along the corridor and open the room to let them in without even a word to acknowledge him. He seemed deep in thought. The door shut behind them with a thump. Shuichi stared at Eiri. He said nothing, but it was clear he expected an explanation. Eiri cautiously began to speak; not wanting to give details or dither around.

"That woman from the Métro. I met her a long time ago, seven years ago. And I -" He struggled and forced himself with difficulty to say the words. "I am the father of her son, Pierre."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" accused Shuichi frostily.

"I didn't know until tonight! I didn't know she kept the baby. I don't think I even knew she got pregnant!" he said in indignant disbelief.

"So how can you know that he's really yours?" Shuichi questioned keeping his icy stare motionless and his voice steady despite the tears that quivered; poised to fall.

"Because I just do! It's hard to explain but I do know. Scientifically, the dates all fit too and he even looks like me. Can't you even try to be a little pleased? What's put you in such a bad mood this evening anyway?"

"Oh I don't know!" He cried back sarcastically. "Perhaps it's because a few hours ago I finally thought everything was perfect; I thought we could be happy together; I thought you loved me!" He brushed the tears from his cheeks with his sleeve - _Don't waste your tears, he doesn't deserve to see them -_ and continued in tones of despairing distress. "You said you loved me, for the first time, you finally said it! But what does it all mean now? Some chick you knocked up back when you were a manslut shows up and now I don't where we are anymore! What does it all mean, Eiri? What does she mean to you?"

His desperate questions faded like the rippling echoes of a bombshell and quivered away into fearful whimpers. Fearful for their relationship; fearful that the fragile bond which held them together could break. There was a tense silence as he waited anxiously for Eiri to respond.

"She means nothing to me." Eiri's cold voice pieced the stillness. He was shocked and appalled by Shuichi's jealous outburst, so mistrusting, so suspicious. Shuichi breathlessly blinked away his tears and looked up at Eiri's disgusted expression. Disgust? That was the last reaction he had expected. He began to realise that he had read too much into his relationship with Adèle; filling in the gaps between the lines with misguided interpretations of every word, every gesture, every motion and cramming any left over spaces with his own foolish doubt.

"She means nothing to me because she was never my lover. She was a hooker."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause.

"I don't know whether that makes things better or worse." Shuichi hissed viciously. He bluntly turned a cold shoulder towards him and sat down on the bed to untie his shoelaces.

Eiri closed his eyes. How could Shuichi be so insensitive? He had more news to break which he knew Shuichi would not take well but as it didn't seem he could make the situation any worse he decided to do it anyway.

"I've invited Adèle and Pierre, to stay with us in Tokyo."

He waited for Shuichi to respond but there was no reply. He continued:

"Pierre didn't steal your wallet for fun. He did it because they're broke. Why else do you think his mum does what she does?"

No reply.

"And I feel responsible that they have to live like they do because maybe if I hadn't got Adèle pregnant she could have had a decent chance at life. She was thrown out by her family and she's a failure because of me."

No reply.

"Don't you understand Shuichi? Pierre is my son and I can't ignore that! We met today on the Métro like fate, drawn together like gravitation. I knew instantly he was mine. If I abandon them I'll just be as bad as every other friend or family she's ever had."

Still no reply.

"I'm nearly twenty-five now and it would be a lie to say that I don't think about having children of my own someday. Pierre could be my only chance. I want to get to know my son -"

"Who are you?!" Shuichi snapped suddenly "The real Eiri Yuki wouldn't say things like that! Did you loose part of your personality too when I smashed your head up? Yuki Eiri wouldn't care about some whore and her kid or talk about starting a family with her! He wouldn't-"

"I never said I wanted to start a family with her!" Eiri interrupted, shouting furiously to be heard over Shuichi's howling. "And she isn't called 'some whore' either, her name is Adèle Camélias!"

"I wasn't finished yet!" screeched Shuichi. His words were blurred by the tears that had trickled into the corners of his mouth as he listened to Eiri pour out the terrible truth. "Yuki Eiri wouldn't talk such soppy bullshit! Or smile! Or say he loved me! Who are you?!" He fell silent, seething, and scowled bitterly as he watched Eiri begin to unbutton his shirt.

Eiri sighed heavily "Fine. I've had enough of this. If that's what you think; I'm going to bed."

Shuichi's last thoughts before he drifted into an uneasy sleep curled up on the far side of the bed: _Less than three hours ago you said you loved me and now I really do hate you…whoever you are. _


	12. The Unfinished Chapters

Disclaimer 

I don't own Gravitation.

_**Chapter 12 – The Unfinished Chapters**_

Eiri scrolled down the document on his computer skimming through and picking out mistakes. This was a new novel and a new start to his writing career. This time it was easy. Ideas exploded into chapters; characters developed and matured; his imagination flowed as prose which swelled into sentences and bloomed into paragraphs, ripe and dripping with imagery. Layers of meaning and intricate stories wove effortlessly through his narrative like the interlacing syncopated notes of melody and harmony.

There was a knock at the door.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Who is it?" he asked, a little wryly.

"It eis only me." Said Adèle as she cautiously opened the door. She and Pierre had been living with Eiri and Shuichi for just over a week now and the situation was not a comfortable one. Shuichi was avoiding him and they had not exchanged more than the minimum brusque pleasantries since returning from Paris. It was clear that he felt threatened by Adèle but Eiri was afraid to talk to either of them as it would mean risking their already fragile relationships. "Eiri? I am lonely."

"Oh." He replied simply; not listening as he picked up the loose threads of his unfinished sentence and knotted them into the last words. "Where's Pierre?"

"In bed, it eis past eight o'clock. 'E knows not to interrupt 'is mother when she eis workien." _Working?_ Thought Eiri. _You're not working, I'm the one working here and I have to finish this chapter tonight if I'm to stay on schedule. _

"What do you want? And make it quick. I'm busy." He grumbled tilting his head back to look at her as she stood in the doorway behind him.

"Eiri?" She began again carefully. "Are you 'appy? Wit' Shuichi I mean. Do you ever meiss thee touch of a woman?" His brow furrowed slightly as he contemplated; he didn't like where this conversation was going. On any other occasion the answer would have been a straight-forward NO! But now…things were difficult. With the exception of the kiss on the Eiffel Tower he and Shuichi had barely touched since the night before Hiro's wedding, well over a month ago. She took a few steps towards him and continued:

"I never told you 'ow beautiful zat night was. We 'eld 'ands unteil thee sunrise drained thee colour from the night. I know you remember it, don't you?"

He swivelled around to look at her. "Why do you still remember it?" He questioned, stunned that a woman in her line of work could remember a specific client. A client? Was that all he had been to her?

"It eis rare zat I get to work wit' men young and 'andsome as you were" She said shyly. "I do not enjoy what I do, I just 'ave to do it. Sere eis no other way! But you reminded me what love eis."

Love again. Is that what she thought love was? No matter how young and handsome she'd thought he was, there had never been any affection or tenderness between them that could constitute something close to love. He certainly hadn't felt anything in return and it distressed him that she thought there might have been. Had that one meaningless night to him been enough to scratch the hardened surface of her hollow world? Perhaps that was what brought them together in the first place; they were both lonely and unloved and hollow.

He looked pityingly into her dull, empty, grey eyes as he realised that love was probably something she had never experienced. Part of him, the part that had thawed under Shuichi's touch, wanted to take this lonely, unloved woman and show her the meaning of true love. But another part of him did not. He was lonely too; he had been lonely for well over a month now.

She knelt down in front of his chair, gazed imploringly into his eyes and stroked her slender fingers down his cheek. In that touch he felt his mental age slip back seven years; they were both teenagers again, alone and uncommitted.

_What did it matter?_ Shuichi was out.

Her finger tips slid further down past his chin, down his neck and chest, unfastening the buttons of his shirt skilfully as they went. A furtive smile curled at the corners of his lips as she reached his belt, and beyond.

"Just let me save my work." He said quickly, his voice abnormally high-pitched with arousal. "And you know I said make it quick? Turns out I have more time than I thought." She nodded distractedly as she placed one hand on his chest to push him backwards. Backwards into the desk.

Smack. His head collided with the wooden tabletop and he lurched forward knocking her sideways off him, clutching the splitting pain at the back of his skull. The wound was still raw. An aching reminder of the last time he had deceived Shuichi. Shuichi?

"No, no, no. No. NO! What am I doing?! What are _you_ doing?! Sorry, I can't do this. Why am _I_ sorry?! This is your fault!" He ran his fingers through his hair trying to sooth his throbbing head. "I can't believe you! This is _so_ wrong! Shuichi is the one- the one I love. You can never come close to what I have with him. Please, get out of here!" Adèle scrambled to her feet; blushing self-consciously and straightening her blouse. She left without a word.

Eiri buttoned his shirt again absent-mindedly. He couldn't believe himself. He tried to distract himself by returning to his manuscript but the words wouldn't make sense anymore. At least he had confirmed one thing: Pierre was the reason he had invited them back to Tokyo, not Adèle.

There was another knock at the door. The front door this time, and he heard Adèle go to answer it.

"Oh?" said the voice at the door, surprised to see a woman answer. "Does this mean my brother has finally come to his senses and finished with that Shindou bloke?" Eiri appeared behind Adèle's shoulder.

"I- I will go and check Pierre." She whispered timidly, leaving them alone to talk.

"What do you want Mika?" Asked Eiri coolly.

She flicked her long hair out of her eyes. "I want to know what's going on between you and Tohma!? Did you have a fight or something? He won't tell me. He's been nothing but a good friend to you-"

"Pierre! Pierre!" They were interrupted by Adèle as she chased Pierre across the apartment. That had become a frequent battle cry in their home over the past few days. 'Pierre! Ne touche pas ça!', 'Pierre! Tu viens ici, maintenant!', 'Pierre! Manger vos légumes!".

"Je ne veux pas aller dormer!" He screeched as he darted past their waists and out of the door, barefoot, in his pyjamas. Mika's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"What on earth!" She shook her head in disbelief. "I don't want to know! It seems you have more than enough on your plate right now. I'll talk to you some other time."

"Good! I don't want to talk about it anyway!" He snapped. She clucked her tongue as she turned to leave and muttered under her breath.

"Stupid jerk."

Meanwhile, outside on the street, Adèle found herself once again chasing her son through the cold, dark night. Only this time she was in Japan, not France. Her long auburn curls streamed out behind her as she ran. She turned a corner, and bumped into a stranger walking in the opposite direction.

"Oooph!" He said as she winded him. With great relief she saw the man had caught Pierre and was keeping a firm hold on his shoulder. "Ah-ha! I believe this must belong to you?" He said as he pushed her son towards her. She took hold of Pierre gratefully and then looked up at his rescuer.

"Thank you so much, monsieur." She said apologetically but her gaze was held captive by his deep brown eyes. He was good-looking and about the same age as her. She asked anxiously: "Perhaps, I could invite you to my 'ouse to 'ave a drink and to thank you properly?" He nodded politely and then followed her back to the apartment.

Eiri looked up from the printed draft he was reading on the sofa as the three of them entered. The two men caught sight of each other.

"You!?-" shouted the stranger, his face contorted with fury.

"What are you doing in my house!?" Eiri yelled.

"You bastard! What the hell did you do to my sister!?" Taki shouted back. Adèle flinched uncomfortably and dragged Pierre to his bedroom.

Eiri stood up to confront his enemy face to face. "You raped my lover, I raped your sister. I think I'd call that even." His voice was soft and chilling. "And I know that's not strictly true but I think you've got the lighter side of the deal so I'd leave it at if I were you."

"You're despicable!" Taki spat through gritted teeth. "You haven't heard the last of this!" He stormed out, as best he could with a limp, and slammed the door shut behind him.


	13. Reconciled and Broken

Disclaimer 

I don't own Gravitation.

_**Chapter 13 – Reconciled and Broken**_

A small figure climbed into the bed beside Eiri, disrupting his warm sheets and disturbing his sleep. _Pierre?_ He thought drowsily. _Or Shuichi? _He rolled over cautiously and examined the head of pink hair beside him. "Shuichi?" he whispered curiously; perhaps in his weary state he had forgotten they had fallen out. "Don't you want to sleep on the sofa again?"

A smiling face emerged from beneath the quilt. "No, not really. I'd much rather stay here with you. You don't mind, do you?" His fingers stretched out under the covers to squeeze Eiri's hand. Eiri looked back at him, disturbed.

"Well, no. Of course I don't mind. I just-…Are you drunk?"

He giggled childishly. "What!? No! What makes you say that?"

"Okay." He said slowly, "I thought you were mad at me." Speaking tentatively, knowing that with each word he edged closer to the trigger that would jog his memory. "I- I thought you hated me. I thought you said I wasn't '_the real Yuki Eiri._'" He mimicked a little cruelly.

Shuichi giggled again and smiled adorably as he said. "I did. And you're not! But I like Eiri Uesugi much better." They were both wide awake by now so Eiri reached across to switch on the lamp and get a clear view. He was still confused. He couldn't get the image of Adèle and himself out of his head. The twinge of pain at the back of his head was still raw and fresh in his memory and yet here was Shuichi, completely oblivious and forgiving.

"What's brought this on?! Are you sure you're not high or anything?" Shuichi looked slightly offended but he persisted.

"Earlier, I came back for my gloves. I heard you and Adèle – talking."

"Oh." Said Eiri. This was making less sense than it did originally.

"She wanted you. She wanted to sleep with you but you said no! And you said '_Shuichi is the one I love. You can never come close to what I have with him_'." He was grinning smugly. Eiri frowned; his own words sounded cheap spoken back like that, like something from his novels.

"So, are you saying you forgive me?" He asked incredulously. Shuichi's arms slid over Eiri's shoulders and his hands wove into the blonde hair at the back of his head. His fingertips laced deeper, stroking the bruised bones and soothing the swollen tissues of his scar.

"I'm the one who needs forgiving. I should've trusted you all along."

Eiri smiled his genuine and beautiful smile again. "I love you, Shuichi."

"Thanks. I love you too, Eiri." He replied sweetly. Eiri gave Shuichi a goodnight kiss and switched off the light but they continued to talk in the darkness.

"Good gig?"

"You, of all people, should know Bad Luck does not do _bad_ gigs! Yes it was fine. Eiri, how much longer are Adèle and Pierre going to stay here?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Sorry, I know you don't like it."

"I don't mind Pierre. It's just Adèle I don't like."

"Yeah, I know. That's understandable. She's a whore."

* * *

"'ow do I look?" Asked Adèle as she flaunted her dress to Eiri, Shuichi and Pierre who were sat at the dinning table. It was black, short, plunging, clingy and generally quite revealing. 

"Fine." Replied Eiri flatly, conscious not to show too much affection in front of Shuichi.

"Very nice." Fibbed Shuichi.

"Très belle, maman!" Exclaimed Pierre endearingly.

"Aww. Merci mon petit chéri!" She bent over to kiss him revealing yet more of her extensive cleavage. Eiri and Shuichi both looked away embarrassed and Pierre wiped away the red lipstick stain on his cheek. "Etre un bon garçon ce soir, Pierre. D'accord?" He nodded absent-mindedly as he used a single chopstick to jab at the last piece of fish that was skidding around his plate.

"Where are you going this evening Adèle?" Asked Eiri.

"Out. I am meeting a friend. Thank you so much for taking care of Pierre." She ruffled her fingers through her hair and smiled warmly as she picked up her handbag and shawl and left. Eiri and Shuichi exchanged a dubious look over the blonde head between them.

"Out? Out where? She doesn't have any friends."

"I don't know." replied Eiri. He caught Pierre's wrist deftly to stop him licking the last sauce from his plate and pulled it back down to the table. Pierre giggled and promptly lifted his plate to his lips again with a mischievous look. Eiri certainly hadn't mastered discipline yet. "Stop it!" He said sternly although not managing to completely suppress a slight chuckle. "Unless- You don't think she's meeting, y'know-…do you?" He couldn't bring himself to say his name.

"What? Aizawa you mean?"

"It's got to be." Confirmed Eiri gravely.

She waited on the street, at the bottom of the building. A cold breeze forced Adèle to pull the shawl tighter around her bony shoulders and she shuddered although not regretting her choice of outfit. The last fallen leaves were scudding along the road, scraping as their brittle frames grazed the tarmac. She watched one solitary leaf as it was lifted in a funnel of wind, swirled gracefully, carefree, in midair for a moment, and then fell beneath the wheel of a passing car and shattered into a thousand pieces, laced together by its dried veins.

"You look cold, let's go somewhere warmer."

She sighed with relief as Taki wrapped an arm around her petite waist and pulled her close to him. "You came! Thank you." He smiled back cordially as though she had no reason to ever doubt he would and then began to lead her down the street with his arm linked through hers. "Where are we going?" She asked eagerly feeling butterflies and bubbles of excitement rising in her stomach; it had been years since she'd been on a real date.

"Just a little café I know." He replied mysteriously and he squeezed her hand playfully as they turned a corner. "To make you feel at home." They entered a small bistro with mismatched woven tables and chairs that spilled out onto the pavement. The room was furnished with vintage floral prints and old-fashioned knickknacks. Adèle laughed, even on the other side of the world this place was more French than France itself. Taki pulled her over to a table in a secluded corner where they could talk privately and thrust a tasselled menu under her nose. They each ordered a mug of coffee and a honey glazed pastry, glistening with raisins and cherries which arrived on quaint patterned crockery.

"So," Said Taki as he leaned back casually in his chair. "Tell me about yourself."

She looked down self-consciously. Where to begin? There was so much to tell and so much to keep secret. "Well." she laughed embarrassedly "My name is Adèle Camélias, I was born in Pari', and I 'ave lived lived sere all my life, unteil now. I am not married but I 'ave a son, 'is name is Pierre." Seeing that this approach wasn't going to get him where he wanted Taki took charge, asking the questions.

"Your son. He's Eiri Yuki's isn't he?" She nodded slowly in answer. This stranger seemed to know an awful lot already.

"'ow do you know Eiri? I can't think zat you are very friendly wit 'im. I saw you fighting wit 'im thee other night." She enquired warily.

He forced a high, false laugh. "Fighting?! No! Eiri and I go way back. It's just a friendly rivalry." She gave him a coy smile, taken in by his lies, and looked away as she dabbed her finger around the empty plate crushing the fragile flakes of pastry beneath her fingertip. He quickly changed the subject back to her. "Did Eiri abandon you with his child?"

She paused for a moment to consider his words. "I- I suppose, perhaps 'e did. But I never told 'im unteil now. It is my fault I 'ave been struggling."

"Your fault?! How can you say that?" He asked incredulously. "Pierre is as much his responsibility as he is yours. Eiri Yuki left a young, vulnerable, single woman to struggle though life and support his son and without leaving as much as his phone number. That's why you couldn't tell him, he didn't want to know! He just moved on. He abandoned you both. What kind of jerk does that!?" His speech flowed easily like a rehearsed argument.

She smiled warmly. He didn't have all the facts quite right but no one had ever showed her this much sympathy or understanding before. "I- I do not know."

"Eiri Yuki is a jerk. You know that as well as I do!" She was a little surprised at his reaction; a minute ago he'd just said they were friends, hadn't he? "He has a lot of secrets. He was fired from his teaching position, you know? Taking advantage of young girls. Including my sister."

"Really?! 'ow terrible!" She said, shocked. He nodded sincerely and continued:

"And you see that-" He indicated his crutch that was leaning against the table beside them. "He did that."

"It seems to me zat your rivalry is less friendly than you say it eis!" She said with a tinkle of nervous laughter.

"We could expose him you know Adèle, together; publish it in the papers! Tell the world what he's really like. I'll bet he wouldn't be so popular if they knew who he really was, what he really does; an illegitimate father who abandoned his own son before he was born; a paedophile; a rapist even!" He licked his lips as he relished the thought of Eiri's fall from grace but his planned tripped on Adèle's second thoughts.

"I- I do not want to do zat! 'e 'as been very kind to me!" He shook his head warningly and leant forwards with his elbows on the table; his face was worryingly close to hers and she could see suppressed fury in every feature. With an anxious gulp she noted how close his hands were to her neck. His hot breath was like fire on her ears, condensing on her clammy skin.

He hissed threateningly: "Don't argue with me. You haven't seen anything yet."

Her hand twitched weakly towards her handbag; a pocket knife used when clients turned nasty, but the café was too public. "OK, I will do it." She whispered breathlessly. He sank back into his seat with a satisfied smirk. "Th- Thank you for a wonderful evening." She forced herself to say as she stood up and gathered her belongings, avoiding his mocking glare.

She left. Ran home. From the arms of one man she distrusted to another, as she had done all her life.


	14. Press Release

Disclaimer 

I don't own Gravitation.

_**Chapter 14 – Press Release**_

Eiri unfolded the magazine that was lying on the coffee table of his apartment.

"_THE MISSING CHAPTERS"_

"_The Secret Pages Yuki Eiri Left out of His Autobiography – For the full story and more exclusive celebrity gossip turn to pages 6 - 10"_

He pinched himself. It had been a long time since he'd seen his reputation splattered across a headline like that. With a steadying breath he opened the magazine at the incriminating article.

"_Former controversial romance novelist, Yuki Eiri, relinquished his position at the top of the best-selling rankings nearly six months ago with the demise of "Lover is a Cheap Title" but it would appear there is much more to this tear-jerking sob story which he chose not to disclose to the public – and with good reason." _

"_Since his autobiography published his tragic history of abuse and a broken family there has always been a question circulating; how could a man with such a traumatic past be so good-natured? Could all those charming smiles have been a façade covering the disturbed mental state of a lecherous libertine? A whorehound? An adulterer? A paedophile? A rapist? No, your eyes are not deceiving you. These secrets are sure to keep you turning the pages of his missing chapters."_

"_Ad__è__le Cam__é__lias sat tensely opposite me in a Tokyo Restaurant supported by her boyfriend and ex-lead singer of short lived rock band ASK, Taki Aizawa, as she prepared to tell her story. A broken woman of just 22…"_

He scoffed at this, she was at least a few months older than he was; nineteen when they met and certainly not the naive sixteen year old this made her out to be. His forced laughter however, couldn't disguise the fear that was consuming his casual attitude with every word he read. How far had this spread? How long would it be before the swarms of reporters gathered at his door and the peaceful months he had enjoyed as an insignificant recluse would end?

"…_trembling visibly as she clutched a humble glass of water that reflected her empty grey eyes. She was clearly devastated by her catastrophic associations with the successful novelist; one of many victims who fell for his seductive charisma as he travelled the womanising circuits of not only this county, but America and Europe as well. Abandoned by her family at just 16 and pregnant with the illegitimate son of Yuki Eiri she had no option but to turn to prostitution."_

That wasn't true either. She'd been a hooker before she slept with him.

"_It would have to be a heartless man to be capable of leaving such an adorable boy as Pierre to a life of crime and squalor; __regardless of the fact he was his own son. Strapped for cash, Ad__è__le even shamefully confessed to teaching her son to pickpocket and using him to distract attention from the far more culpable crimes that occurred in their rundown Parisian apartment. All this suffering can be traced back to its roots in Yuki Eiri's reckless promiscuity and who knows how many more women are in a similar situation? Broken-hearted and discarded."_

"_Aizawa is also no stranger to the destruction caused by this man's actions. He revealed that earlier this year after Yuki's mysterious disappearance he took on a job at the Imperial College as a professor of Literature and dropped his alias to reveal his horrifying true personality. Shockingly, Taki claims that his younger sister, Naomi (16) a student of the college where Yuki assumed his teaching position, was taken advantage of by the older man who sexually abused her until his behaviour culminated in a her rape at a friend's wedding. "She was so innocent." He told reporters furiously, "She trusted him faithfully, an easy target for such a devious and perverted predator."_

On and on it went over several more sides; pages of lies, or at least distorted truths, documenting his disgrace in explicit detail; linking his 'behaviour' to his unfortunate past; psychoanalysing his distorted character and even dragging up photographs from his relationship with Shuichi. Bad Luck featured heavily too, of course; why would Taki bring down one without the other? They were accused of supporting his actions and helping to keep his offences secret. Eiri could see their careers crumbling beneath their feet as journalists sank their crooked teeth deeper into his reputation. Blood was sure to be spilled.

The door opened and Adèle entered. She smiled calmly and then noticed the magazine in his hand. "Oh no." She whispered timidly, bracing herself for his tirade.

"Oh no is just about right! What the hell did you think you were doing!?" He yelled, "Get out of my house!"

Her eyes filled with tears, hopeless, defenceless. "Pleeze, Eiri. I only…-" She couldn't find the words but he wasn't going to give her a chance to explain anyway. He cut her off with a roar:

"Get out!!"

As she approached the door Adele heard voices, muffled and distorted, shouting from inside.

"I thought you'd be pleased, Naomi. Doesn't it feel good to get revenge?"

"I don't understand you! Why? Why would you do that!? He doesn't deserve it!"

"Scum like Yuki Eiri deserve everything they've got coming to them! Have you forgotten what he did to you? He raped you. He beat you. He left you for dead! No one does that to my sister, especially not pansy romance novelists."

"You're wrong. He never did anything of the sort! You're mad! It's all in your head!"

"Don't you dare try to defend him!" She heard the sharp crack of a slap and a whimper of pain. Taki's voice lowered to a spiteful snarl and Adèle strained to hear. "Oh I see now. You're still in love with him, aren't you? Despite all the pain he's put our family through you can't bare to see him hurt, can you?"

There was another whimper. "Please, Taki-…"

"How dare you! You insolent child!" The sound of a scuffle; a stifled shriek; footsteps dashing upstairs; the slam of a door. Silence.

With a shuddering breath Adèle stepped forward and knocked on the door. It was flung open aggressively but stopped as he saw who it was and acknowledged her with a casual nod. He didn't seem to realise she had heard their fight and she pretended, more to herself than him, that she hadn't either. It was hard to believe that this man, who now stood so nonchalantly before her, was the same man she had just heard beat his own sister. "I was wondering if you 'ad a place zat I could stay 'ere?"

"Eiri's thrown you out has he?" He replied with a derisive snigger. He leant on the doorframe and surveyed her up and down, noting her hastily packed luggage and a sulky looking Pierre who was clinging shyly to one of her legs with his head resting on her hip.

"No!" She lied. "I was not confortable leiving sere anymore. I was worried about thee affect Eiri and Shuichi's relationship would 'ave on my son."

Taki scoffed again, reading through her lies like glass, and stepped back to let them in.

**A/N: **Review it, Review it, Review it! Next up the Grand Finale! Be sure not to miss it!! It will rock your socks until they develop tiny psychotic minds of their own and force you to dance until your feet fall off:-D x x x x x


	15. Fatally Late

Disclaimer 

Yet again, I don't own Gravitation.

**A/N:** This is it guys! The final chapter! If you haven't read this all in one sitting I strongly recommend you take a minute to remind yourself what's happened so far, especially the first chapter. It will make much more sense that way :-D

_**Chapter 15 – Fatally Late **_

Eiri pulled his car up to the pavement beside Taki's house. Surely Adèle couldn't deny him the right to see his son on his birthday, could she? He practiced his smile in the mirror: It was difficult; he was so out of practice it was hard not to look like a demented clown or the creepy paedophile he apparently was. With a sigh, he picked up the gift-wrapped box from the passenger seat, slammed the door shut behind him and walked up to the house. He rang the doorbell and watched his reflection in the glass panel as he pulled his rehearsed smile again, ready for the door to be opened.

No one opened the door. Perhaps they had gone out, but Adèle said they would be in. Suspiciously, he pushed the door to see if it was locked. It fell open. He walked inside quietly but stopped as he caught sight of a horrific vision.

Taki was lying at the foot of the stairs. A panic filled him but he felt no compassion for this man's fate. Any death is distressing but his hatred for him seemed to cancel out any sympathy and he felt nothing. Eiri knelt beside him and pulled his shoulder over to look at him; a bottle rolled away from his hand, ringing eerily as it crossed the floor. Taki's eyes were open and unresponsive, his lip was cut and bleeding, as was his nose, and his limbs had landed at peculiar angles around him. Landed? Had he fallen? Was he pushed? Eiri pulled the lids over his haunting eyes and stepped cautiously over the corpse.

Trying to remain calm and not think about what he would find at the top, he walked up the stairs. There was Adèle. She was slumped against the wall with her head on her chest; blood soaked her blouse, still warm, still seeping. He knelt next to her and with a trembling hand he pushed her head back gently. She was still breathing.

"Eiri?" She moaned in a whisper. Blood, tears and mascara were mingling as they tricked down her pale cheeks from her grey eyes. He could see the knife wound in her stomach.

"It's OK. I'll call an ambulance. Hold on. You'll be OK- Adèle, Adèle! Talk to me! Did Taki do this?" He knew it was too late. He gripped her cold hand as she tilted her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. She gave a violent wretch and coughed up the remaining blood that was keeping her alive. What little life there had been in her hollow, empty eyes left them and her fingers became limp as they slid out of Eiri's grasp.

Despite all the pain she had caused him, he couldn't help but feel heartbroken sympathy. He was now certain Taki had forced her to speak to the journalists. He wiped the blood from her chin with his handkerchief and kissed her forehead softly as he let her head drop back onto her chest. There was still a nagging question that became more painful the longer it remained unanswered. Where was Pierre?

A shrill wailing emerged from the silence and a restrained relief swept through Eiri's tense body. At least he knew he was alive. Panic rose again as he began to feverishly search the house. He flung back the door to Naomi's room; the floor was strewn with clothes, a shattered mirror, signs of a struggle, an escape? There was a smeared bloody handprint on the dresser. Had she got away safely?

He stumbled out of the room: "Pierre!" The boy's cries grew louder. Eiri followed them to another bedroom. On the floor he found him; a scrawny blonde child with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them as he rocked back and forth distractedly, crying inconsolably. Eiri saw himself on that bedroom floor too, just as Tohma had found him that night in New York. He dropped the brightly coloured, gift-wrapped parcel from his hand: It seemed twisted given the morbid circumstances; it was hardly going to be "Happy Birthday".He took Pierre in his arms, holding him close and muttering: "You're safe now. I've got you." Pierre lifted his head and howled piteously. A cry that stirred a memory in Eiri's mind; clearer than ever before.

"_I was helpless prey cornered by my predator. Another window smashed, this time above me and splinters of glass scratched the back of my neck and head. Cool rain was blown through the opening and sprinkled over me. Tears of terror trickled down my cheeks. I was going to die. I crawled out to the edge of the sofa and saw three men, Yuki and two strangers, respectable men reduced to savage animals by alcohol."_

"_He saw me. His eyes glinted, his tongue licked along his lips, his tail twitched, he pounced. I sprinted towards the door but his hands clawed at my shirt pulling me down and he roared with rage. I slipped on the spilled water from the vase and my chin hit the table and nothing…That was all I could remember until now." _

"_I came round, I don't know how long I was unconscious but the nightmare was still living when I woke up. I scrambled to my feet and retreated, unsuccessfully, into the wall. Yuki was stalking me; crouched over like a primitive human, not yet able to stand upright, and I cowered beneath him. His eye's glinted in the shadows as he pinned my trembling, defenceless form against the wall." _

"_Heart racing, adrenaline pumping I shoved back. "Let Go!". He doubled over in pain and the bottle he was holding clattered to the ground. That was my chance to get away, but I couldn't run, I couldn't leave him. This man was my tutor, my mentor, my muse; this was the man I loved. "Sensei?" I watched with concern, listening to my shallow breathing snagging on my dry lips, as he unfolded his lanky skeleton to its full height, towering above me." _

""_Stop calling me that. Eiri, it's OK. You've always been a good, polite boy." I looked at the hand he placed with such threatening delicacy beside my head. My throat was too dry to scream and my chest felt empty like my lungs had worked themselves to dust which now coated the insides of my airways. I couldn't swallow: I couldn't breathe." _

""_Stop it!" I cried in a hoarse, quavering whisper."_

""_Stop? Why?" His eyes narrowed menacingly. "Haven't you been looking at me all this time?" _

""_That was-…I…" Guilty tears began to fall; not because I knew what was coming, but because I didn't."_

""_This is what you wanted. Isn't it?" He sighed softly, our faces so close together I could feel his lips brushing my ear. I have never wanted anything less in my life." _

""_The door unlocked. Kitazawa's eyes flicked impatiently towards the disturbance. "Hey! What are you doing?" For a moment I thought I was saved; it would be the police here to catch him, arrest him, handcuff him and I would spit triumphantly into his face as they dragged him away. The beam of light from the door widened and slithered over us. I felt exposed and vulnerable. "Be a good boy." called a heartless voice as they closed in. Another man pushed Yuki away: "Move Yuki! C'mon, I'm paying you ten bucks!" Ten bucks. That was all I was worth to them."_

""_Sensei!" I cried desperately."_

""_After you." He muttered with a sort of perverse etiquette. He turned away. He deserted me." _

"_I was too young to understand what the two men were doing but I fought back. Kicking, scratching, biting, screaming, hitting hopelessly; they were too strong - until I found the gun that is. My fingers closed around the cold weapon and I fired blindly into the darkness. I killed them both and finally turned the gun on my tutor. I pulled the trigger with my eyes closed; I couldn't bear to watch. It's surprising how quickly those feelings of love can be displaced by hatred with one act of betrayal." _

"_I killed them all. I killed them because they killed me – part of me. They killed my childhood, my innocence; I felt it wilt like a flower, withering, rotting, decaying and leaving me hollow and cynical." _

"_Someone was screaming and I knew it was me but I couldn't stop…I could hear frantic footsteps outside, a voice called my name…I flinched as a pair of arms embraced me and the screaming boy yelled "Don't touch me!"…A hand held the back of my neck and another pressed a beaker of water to my mouth…the glass clinked against my chattering teeth…On the floor I could see wine stains, red like blood, and blood stains, red like wine…My shaking hand reached up to hold the beaker…There was dried blood on my fingers." _

There were frantic footsteps outside his memory too, running upstairs towards the bedroom. That same voice called his name as it had done nearly nine years ago. Pierre was screaming, and Eiri was crying almost as hard as he was. Every tear he'd held back, too cold-hearted to let fall, was at last released and he mourned for the childhood he had lost.

And yet in some ways, the child he had lost was here, in his arms. He now knew that this boy meant the world to him. He loved him as much, if not more than, Shuichi. But this was a different kind of love. The love of a father; the unconditional love of a family he had never known. Nothing mattered anymore, not his reputation, or his career.

Half-blinded by tears and the throbbing pain at the back of his skull he could see Tohma's angelic face as he wrapped his arms around both of them. He also now knew why Tohma had done everything he'd done: he loved Eiri like his own son.

Later that day Eiri watched the sleeping face of their soon-to-be adopted son as it rested peacefully on the crisp, white hospital pillows. This boy was the past he had lost in so many ways. He stroked his fingers gently through Pierre's soft blonde locks and then traced them delicately across the contours of his cheekbones and jaw. Pierre flinched slightly in his sleep and his brow furrowed as though he was troubled by nightmares; troubled in the depths of his mind, and Eiri's heart pleaded futilely to rescue him. He looked up at the Doctor:

"How much will he remember?" He enquired cautiously.

"A child's mind is surprisingly malleable at such a young age, Mr Uesugi." He answered straightforwardly. "There's a high probability that he will have no recollection of the incident at all. With the correct assistance from our psychology department there should be no long-term trauma." He then added with an encouraging smile. "And we all hope that it will be so."

_**THE END**_

**A/N: **Well if that doesn't make me feel like a sadistic puppet master I don't know what will!

So, th-th-th-that's all folks! My most heartfelt thanks go to anyone who has reviewed, read or even taken the slightest bit of interest in this story; I hope you've all enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it :-) Do you know what you really ought to do now…?

REVIEW IT!!

Yes, this is my last shameless plea for you to boost that hits to reviews ratio! Was it good? Was it bad? Was it ugly? Was it the queen? (You should review just to let me know if you got that joke lol) Does it need an epilogue? What exactly is the point of an epilogue? Can I stop asking these questions yet?

Thanks again everyone!

From Freundlich Fizzo

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x


	16. Epilogue

_**Epilogue**_

But actually this is much more exciting than an epilogue! I have way too much free time at the moment so…

I'M GOING TO DO A SEQUEL!!

That's right my friends, a whole new story! I don't know how far I will get with it but I certainly have some good ideas. I'm going to put the first chapter up now!! It's called "The Scrapbook".

See you in the very near future :-D

x x x x x


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